Returning to the Start
by timunderwood9
Summary: Harry killed them once. Now that he is eleven he'll kill them again. Hermione knows her wonderful best friend has a huge secret, but that just means he needs her more. A H/Hr time travel romance where they don't become a couple until Hermione is twenty one, and Harry kills death eaters without the help of children.
1. Chapter 1

_Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, not me; also, a scene near the middle of this chapter was edited._

* * *

As the song faded they were face to face, Harry watched her new smile fade back into the scowl she'd worn for days. _Do Something_ his brain demanded. He couldn't let Hermione slip back into her depression, he needed her to smile again. He had no idea what he would do, but Harry stopped Hermione when she tried to shrug off his arms and walk away, and caught her eye.

For a long moment they stared at each other, Hermione with wide eyes, a confused expression, and slightly open lips. And Harry realized then that she was the most beautiful person he'd ever seen. With the stress lines around her eyes, no makeup, the bulky clothes due to the cold and her thick ponytail - she was beautiful. And before he could think Harry kissed her.

It only lasted a few seconds and when Harry pulled back Hermione stared at him open mouthed. Harry felt awkward in the silence, and started to stammer an apology, but before he got far,

"Quiet Harry, I'm thinking".

So he shut up. And waited trembling as he watched her suddenly beautiful face for any hint, as she looked at him and chewed her lip. And then she kissed him.

* * *

The snatchers thought Harry might be Harry, so they were thrown into Malfoy's basement to wait for Voldemort. Luna and Ron were already there along with others. Ron was angry at Harry and knew Harry and Hermione were together. But the friction between Harry and Ron disappeared when Hermione was taken upstairs and they heard her scream.

* * *

"_Expelliarmus_" Harry's reflexes were so fast that before Voldemort could finish his _Avada Kedavra _the red bolt struck his wand which sailed through the air to Harry. The final of deathly hallows felt right in Harry's hand as he stared at the shocked Voldemort. The snake had been knocked off his feet and was now sitting on the ground blinking dazedly at Harry. After a moment that seemed to last forever -

"_Stupefy_"

The man collapsed. Holding the Elder Wand Harry turned to attack Bellatrix who was dueling Molly and Ginny, but before she was defeated Harry heard screams from behind him and turned. Voldemort was standing again, holding a new wand and rapidly firing deadly spells. Before Harry could act he watched horrified as a bright yellow bolt from Voldemort's wand struck Hermione. She was blown apart, not even leaving a body, just a red mess.

As Harry stood dazed, trying to comprehend what had happened, he was struck from behind. Operating with instincts that flowed from his new wand Harry threw a shield between him and Goyle's father, and jumped behind a ruined wall while casting an emergency spell that stopped him from bleeding out through the hole in his side. He looked for his remaining friends, but could only see enemies, and they were hunting him. So Harry ran, casting shields and conjuring barriers with a speed and brilliance he'd never shown before. And speeding down the river that ran by the castle in a conjured inflatable raft, Harry shocked himself by getting past the anti-apparition wards and escaping.

Harry stumbled through a pouring rain surrounded by thick trees and screamed when he tripped and fell on his side. He was lightheaded from blood loss and casting too many spells, and desperately hoped his 'point me shelter' would let him find somewhere to rest. Harry found an isolated hunting lodge. It was a two story white and brown wooden building with a large porch and it was empty. _Alohomora _opened the door and on the first floor Harry found an empty bed with wood set in the fireplace. After using _I__ncendio_ to light the fire he collapsed into bed and fell asleep within a minute.

Harry would always be grateful for the nightmare of Hermione's death, in which he felt her blood splatter over him as he desperately tried to jump in front of Voldemort's spell. The dream woke him, and he felt far weaker than earlier and knew something was wrong. When Harry touched his side he found he was lying in a puddle of blood.

It was a long week before Harry could leave the bed. He forced himself to wake every two hours to reapply the spell that kept him from bleeding out, and the anxiety he felt at the possibility of not waking up meant he never could truly rest. When hungry Harry was too sick and weak get up so he summoned a live bird with _accio_ and cooked it with a spell before eating it. Harry spent hours trying half remembered healing spells that often didn't work, and had a fever that left him shivering and made him think he would die. Only after four days of sporadic often painful experiments did Harry figure out how to use his magic to promote healing and kill the infection.

Hermione's death flashed before his eyes again and again as he lie in the wet sticky bed. He pieced together his memories of what had happened. Neville and Molly were definitely dead. Remus, Tonks, George, Colin and others had died before he went into the woods. He had no idea if he'd been the only one to escape, and had no access to a wizarding wireless (or even a muggle radio) to try and find out.

All Harry could do was think he might be the only one left and he _knew _what went wrong. He'd tried to do what Dumbledore would have done. He tried to disable Voldemort. He could have killed him, and if he had the death eaters would have fallen apart and Hermione would still be alive. He'd killed Hermione. It was Harry who killed her because he hadn't wanted to be a murderer. He couldn't bring himself in cold blood to kill a (very temporarily) defenseless man.

Hermione was dead. And it was his fault.

And Dumbledore's fault. He'd followed Dumbledore's plan. He'd followed Dumbledore's ideals. And Hermione was dead. Hermione was dead. It didn't make sense, and Harry refused to let it. As the pain in his side receded he refused to allow himself to think it, any time he could feel his throat start to tighten, or his eyes water he forced his mind away and pretended for a moment Hermione was still with him. Eventually he came to automatically flinch away from thoughts about how she was dead. He couldn't let himself mourn because it was his fault and he had to make it right.

Instead of grieving Harry thought about Dumbledore… he'd just done what Dumbledore would have wanted. Trust in Dumbledore seemed a noble beautiful thing while camping in the woods not sure where to go next. Faith was important, and doubt a betrayal of their cause. And the faith had been justified, they found the Sword of Gryffindor, they found the cup and then the diadem. They destroyed the horcruxes. Dumbledore's plan had _worked, _Harry had even come back from the dead. But Hermione was still - he couldn't let himself think about that.

Dumbledore. That _fucker _had taught him to lose. He taught him to die rather than kill, to do the difficult thing, the 'right' thing and not use lethal force. Everything Dumbledore stood for had failed. Love didn't protect anyone - killing did. Self sacrifice and a willingness to die for your friends didn't protect them - killing did. Sticking your enemies in prison didn't prevent them from killing those you loved - killing did. Goddamn him, _goddamn _Dumbledore and his teachings that killed Harry's friends and let Voldemort win.

Never again. Never again would he hesitate. Never again would he send someone to a revolving door prison. Never again would he let one of his friends die because he didn't kill an enemy. And if all of his friends had died - well Dumbledore was wrong about that too. Hate was as powerful as love. He'd find a way. No matter what, Harry swore, there would be vengeance.

* * *

Harry needed to know if he was the only one left. He knew it could be a trap, but he still decided to first check the Burrow. So as soon as he could stand and walk Harry apparated to an isolated point a mile from the farm house. It took Harry fifteen minutes to cast every detection spell could he remember, and they all told him there weren't any traps. Harry shrugged, it was stupid, but he almost wanted to be attacked. He'd at least have a chance to kill one of them then.

It took Harry an hour to painfully shuffle to the house; he had to sit down every hundred yards due to his lingering weakness. He had been very sick; he _should_ have let himself heal for several more days. But he needed to know. When he arrived at the Burrow Ron walked out, "_You!" _the redhead shouted as Harry collapsed in pain onto a bench in the garden. "They're dead! All of them are dead - my Mum is dead, George is dead, and Fred - and my little sister. And Hermione - you fucked her and then you got her killed. It's all your fault! You were the chosen one, you were supposed to stop him. But you couldn't!" Ron's face was bright red and reminded Harry of Vernon's mottled appearance when he became very angry.

After his rant Ron stared at Harry; perhaps he expected Harry to respond. But Harry was tired and his side hurt. Besides Ron was right. It was his fault.

"Fuck you!" Ron waved his wand to cast a familiar spell. "Sec-tum..." Maybe it was the new instincts from the Elder Wand, but Harry felt like Ron moved in slow motion. Long, long before Ron could finish the spell Harry's hand had moved, and he'd popped a shield into place. "Sem-pra", the spell finished and Ron looked shocked when Harry wasn't hurt. His stunned look as he blinked at Harry was like Voldemort's when Harry had disarmed him.

_"Stupefy_." Ron collapsed. Enemies deserved to die, but Ron wasn't his enemy. Ron had been his friend, but Harry had killed too many to still have a friend. Harry hated that he couldn't stop himself from crying as he held his side and limped out the wards surrounding the Burrow.

* * *

The resistance to Voldemort and the Death Eaters had been destroyed during the Battle of Hogwarts. McGonagall, Flitwick and Slughorn were all dead. Kingsley was captured and later executed. Arthur Weasley was captured but sent to Azkaban. Four fifths of the adult members of the Order of the Phoenix died or were captured. The students who'd fought were dead or too scared to try again, and Voldemort had the support of giants, werewolves and dementors. All of the power was in his hands, and the few people who still might have tried to resist had fled the country.

Voldemort was too insane to truly enjoy his victory, but his followers weren't. They loved their newly increased wealth and power. And they loved that they had made the world a better place. They had permanently stopped the ongoing dilution of magical blood. Never again would mudbloods be allowed to join their society, and to make sure, all mudblood children would be killed, along with their families. The descendants of pureblood wizards would now be safe, and Wizarding Britain would slowly become the most powerful nation in the magical world now that the purity of their blood would be ensured.

For six months it went wonderfully, but then they started to die; first they were ambushed when alone, or attacked in isolated houses with weak wards. Then more senior wizards and larger groups started to die.

Refugees from Britian supported Harry and gave him tools and taught him what they knew. Bill Weasley now living at the Delacour mansion was the most important with his knowledge of curse breaking. And while they weren't willing to openly go to war with Britain, the French and German equivalents of the unspeakables gave Harry a time turner so he could pack several years of training into those six months. And they had their best hit wizards teach Harry to fight. With the help of the Elder Wand and his already great natural abilities Harry quickly reached a point where he could defeat any of his trainers.

By this time Fleur was pregnant and when Harry returned to Britain he convinced Bill to stay behind - he didn't want another Tonks and Remus, and Harry didn't think Bill had the stomach for what he planned to do. But Charlie did, and become half of Harry's backup. Harry's other backup came when he realized the magic binding house elves to their masters functioned in the same way a curse Bill taught him about did. Harry used this knowledge to modify the bindings for a dozen house elves who were willing to help him.

Despite his training, Harry learned the most from killing. After the first few fights Charlie and a house elf hung back to make sure no one came from behind, while Harry systematically tore his enemies to shreds. He was incredibly fast, and devious, and with the elder wand his instincts were sharpened further and he could _see_ ways to get around his enemy's defenses. And fighting a battle to the death every few weeks allowed Harry to learn fast and get better quickly. It usually was this way in the magical world - powerful wizards who stood above the rest, and could only be taken down by their peers. Gellert Grindelwald, Albus Dumbledore, Tom Riddle, Harry Potter.

Harry found a pensieve the first time he raided the house of one of Voldemort's inner circle. It had been more than a year since he'd seen _her _\- even all of the pictures had been destroyed or were in places he couldn't go. Before the next raid Harry spent days obsessively reliving scenes from their life together. Moments when they'd been intimate, moments from their childhood, times when they simply talked, times when they played together. Danced together. And then when she died. Harry went over the Battle of Hogwarts more than twenty times, cursing himself, looking for things he could have done better, seeing opportunities to kill people he'd missed. And watching Hermione die, again and again.

Eventually though Harry knew he needed to finish his revenge. So he used the pensieve as a tool help him kill. He'd fly over a death eater's residence with his broom at extremely high speeds, and then use the pensieve to examine what he saw at his leisure. He'd rewatch battles, trying to learn about the tactics of his surviving enemies, and criticizing his own performance.

He turned his Firebolt into a far more powerful tool, by removing all of the limiters in it, and developing protective charms that let him fly far higher and faster than before. He could fly at several hundred miles an hour, and used that exclusively to travel instead of apparition. It also made it far easier to travel back and forth to the continent.

After a near call when the camp Harry and Charlie had set up to observe a death eater's country estate from was attacked, Harry started to spend most of his time in Britain alone. They discovered the cloak would stop most scrying or seeking spells, so Harry spent whole weeks wearing the cloak even while sleeping, and then would fly to France and bring Charlie over before conducting a major attack.

While Harry did spend most of his time either researching tools for getting through wards or better ways to kill his enemies without dying, it wasn't all work. His broom was far more powerful than ever, and in the far north of Scotland, where no wizards would see him, he'd take it flying, going up thirty thousand feet until even with the protective spells he could feel the cold and his breath became short from lack of oxygen, and then he'd dive covering the six miles in less than a minute watching the sun glint off the water as the horizon narrowed.

Or Harry would take long flights travelling directly over the North pole, wearing sunglasses to protect his eyes from the glare off the vast empty expanses of ice. And he'd seek out vicious storms, flying through them, protected from lightning by his power and struggling with all of his flying brilliance to keep in the air while refusing to go above the storm. Or he'd find huge flocks of migratory birds, and slow down to travel with them for hours while thinking or remembering.

A year after the Battle of Hogwarts Harry also started to read literature. He'd been bored while staking out a remote hunting lodge where a group of death eaters were going to meet, and decided that since Hermione would have jokingly told him to read something, he would. Of course if she'd been here he never would have, but becoming closer to books would allow him to come closer to her. Initially it was boring, and Harry would keep up a conversation with imaginary Hermione, her voice fresh in his mind from watching her in the pensieve. He'd complain, and then imagine how she'd tease him.

But when Harry encountered Homer it became something he did for himself. The tale of endless bloodshed and man killing man. Of spears thrown through bodies, of mighty blows and sudden deaths, and the Gods helplessly watching as their favorites met their fate resonated with this young man whose life was killing again and again.

And then the story of wily Odysseus wandering far from home, meeting strange people, finding himself in danger, and always seeking his family. Except Harry's family was dead and his home destroyed. But still the story of an endless journey caught his imagination, and intentionally imitating Alexander the Great Harry started to sleep with the Iliad and Odyssey by his pillow. His conception of himself shifted through reading them, he wasn't merely trying to find vengeance. He was a great warrior, part of a grand story, and his success (or glorious defeat) had been dictated by fate. He would kill and even if he failed as Hector had, or died as Achilles had, they were never going to forget him.

It took Harry three years to hunt down all of the death eaters. Voldemort was easy, he was arrogant, and thought his new horcrux would protect him, and thought he could simply beat Harry. As soon as Harry had a plan that allowed him to capture the Dark Lord he sent an owl taunting Voldemort. And then after a short battle in Godric's Hollow Harry stunned Voldemort again, and moved him to his camp. It turned out Voldemort had a remarkably low tolerance for pain. Three minutes with the _cruciatus_ and Harry knew where the new horcrux was and could kill Voldemort.

The feeling of satisfaction and happiness Harry had when he blew the body apart was the greatest moment in Harry's life, even better, though he didn't consciously compare the moments, than when he and Hermione first kissed. Even better than when he learned he was a wizard.

Malfoy took by far the longest, he had focused from a very early point on closing every hole in his defenses and building powerful wards to protect himself. Malfoy was smart and desperately wanted to survive, and never went anywhere that wasn't carefully secured. Harry eventually killed him by giving a modified polyjuice potion to a friendly house elf after knocking out one of the Malfoy elves. The house elf then left a small tactical nuclear device Harry had stolen in the manor.

After that Harry spent the next month at the Delacours in a long drunken binge, punctuated by vivid nightmares of Hermione's death. He'd hoped they'd stop once he was done, but hadn't expected it. Afterwards Harry settled down to think about what he wanted to do with his life.

He was a warrior, and felt the most alive in those moments of adrenaline when he unleashed a successful ambush, or he saw a plan come together. And he loved the fist pumping thrill he received when he killed another enemy. And he loved the heart pounding intensity of a duel with a man trying to kill him, spells flying and every fragment of his being focused on survival and victory. Harry was still young, just twenty. And he couldn't finish his education or go back to Britain. In fact he couldn't live openly anywhere - he was a criminal and a mass murderer after all.

But there would always be a demand for people who could kill like he could, and people who could hunt the greatest game like he'd learned to. Harry first got a job through his contacts in China where he worked on a contract basis to find and kill criminals who'd killed members of their police forces. But a combination of Harry's destructiveness and interfering with the operations of a well connected crime family led to him losing that job and being asked (politely, the Asian wizards were not fools) to go elsewhere. Perhaps Africa. They didn't have organized magical governments there, but they did have lots of horrible people.

So Harry went to Africa. And after two bloody years while Harry was hunting down Hutu wizards who'd been involved in the Rwandan genocide a group of his enemies found a way to remove Harry. African shamans knew many things European wizards didn't. And while the Master of Death was too terrifying and dangerous to face directly in battle, he could be trapped and sent elsewhere.

* * *

It hurt, and it felt wrong. As though an extra brain had been stuffed in his head, and the whole thing was about to explode. Harry nearly screamed, but even as he ground his mouth shut the thought was floating through his mind was that he'd expected hell to be worse. This wasn't even as bad as the cruciatus.

Other thoughts floated through his mind in a confused and weirdly entangled manner. For some reason he was having an incredibly vivid flashback to his first day in the magical world. Able to remember more clearly than ever details of Hagrid banging on the door, Dudley screaming, the taste of the cake Hagrid brought, why did he remember something from 10 years ago so vividly. Or was it yesterday, it felt like yesterday. But it had happened a decade ago…. He suddenly wasn't sure, _was _it yesterday?

As the pain faded and his mind slowly cleared he could hear Hagrid's voice, and Madame Pomfrey's, faintly in the background. But they were dead… he was sure they were dead.

* * *

_Thank you for reading and please review_


	2. Chapter 2

_Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling_

* * *

Harry was woken by someone yelling at him; his head hurt so he kept his eyes closed. The thought of getting up nearly made him vomit. Harry snapped his eyes open though when he heard heavy footsteps and the voice coming closer. A giant who looked like his uncle loomed over Harry with huge hands reaching to grab him. Acting on instinct Harry blasted the man back with a push of wandless magic.

This time he did vomit, his magic _hurt. _After a minute the nausea passed, but Harry still felt drained - as though he'd been using magic constantly for an hour. It was quiet so Harry sat for another minute with his eyes closed before he felt well enough to open them.

This can't be real. _Right_?

He was in his old cramped room at the Dursley's, with Dudley's broken toys pushed against one wall, and Vernon Dursley out cold against the other. In the light that filtered through his curtains Harry glanced down. His hands looked completely smooth and the scars were missing. And he had on a pair of torn old pajamas he could vaguely remember from years and years ago. It didn't make sense.

When Harry glanced at Vernon he realized his uncle didn't look right either - he weighed more than Harry remembered, like before Vernon and Dudley lost weight the year Aunt Petunia made them diet. And Vernon should have a bit of grey in his hair, and he didn't.

Harry stood up confused, and nearly toppled as his head spun. After a moment he turned towards the door. It was bigger than doors should be. What sort of weird hallucination would make doors bigger. Harry glanced around the room and realized everything was scaled to the size of the door. His bed had seemed right, but was in fact way bigger than it should be, as was Vernon, and even the toys.

There was a sudden dizzying realization as he glanced back at himself - the room wasn't bigger, he was smaller.

Harry stumbled towards the door as Petunia walked in. She saw her husband against the wall and shrieked "What have you done to him? You _freak_!" As Petunia stepped towards him Harry used a bit of wandless magic to create a loud bang that startled her into stopping. A loud noise required far less effort than knocking her out.

Harry sat back down on his bed and waited for the spinning to clear. After a minute Petunia slowly moved towards Harry again, and he gestured threateningly, "Come closer and I'll knock you out too - go check on Vernon; make sure he's alright."

As he watched his aunt grab Vernon and look him over Harry tried to think. This didn't feel like a dream or a hallucination, but he couldn't be sure and he knew he wasn't thinking very clearly. After she finished looking her husband over Petunia started to yell at Harry again, and he stopped her with another magical bang. "He's alive, right? Good go get the newspaper, and make breakfast for me" When she didn't move and stared at Harry angrily he used another bang, even louder than the other two, "I _will_ hurt you if you make me."

That worked and after Petunia ran out of the room and downstairs Harry shakily forced himself up. He quickly checked on Vernon as well; the man was an awful person, but not a threat to anybody and he didn't want to accidentally kill him. Fortunately it looked like his uncle would be fine.

Harry then stumbled downstairs, with his head spinning, and threw up again on the carpeted stairs midway down. He felt better after that, and smiled at the vomit. Petunia was going to be the one to clean that up, he thought viciously. When Harry reached the bottom of the stairs she was there, with Dudley hiding behind her and looking at Harry with wide eyes. Harry was surprised to realize Dudley had been _cute _as a kid, all fat and pudgy. Harry grabbed the newspaper; it showed as August 1, 1991 as the date. The day after he went with Hagrid to Diagon Alley the first time.

Harry sat down on one of the giant chairs in the dining room with his legs hanging beneath him. It was _weird _to suddenly be tiny. He felt nauseated as he stared at the plate of eggs and bacon Petunia had prepared for him. After a minute Harry shouted "Petunia get in here." The woman came into the room after a minute. She looked terrified as she watched him intently with wide eyes, and jumped when he started to talk; Harry was used to scaring people, but it was still enormous fun to watch his aunt act this way. Even though she might be imaginary. "Get my wand from my trunk, also make up some toast, I don't think I can keep anything else down. And get me some money, one or two hundred ought to do it."

The thin woman had been about to move until he demanded the money then she turned back to him with a resentful scowl. Harry used another bang, and said "I'll give Dudley a pigs snout to match his tail - don't think I won't." Then with another bang his aunt scurried off.

What had those shamans _done_ with the ritual circle he'd stupidly stumbled into. Harry knew it was possible this was real, and not just an illusion. He decided to see Diagon Alley. Was the magical world back in August of 1991 too?

* * *

Two hours later, disguised with blond hair dye - Harry had learned the hard way it was more reliable than a glamour - and makeup to hide his scar Harry sat at a table outside Fortescue's Ice Cream parlor. His bowl had long since melted into soup, and Harry stared mindlessly at the people shopping in the alley. He could still barely think and yesterday was a vague blur; Harry was almost sure though he'd been brought to the Hogwarts infirmary.

Lucius Malfoy walked through his field of vision, and rather than anger or enthusiasm, Harry felt tired. Was he supposed to kill them all again? Harry kept trying to think through "was it real?" and "how?" But he always lost track of his train of thought and his mind returned to an incoherent haze.

And then he saw _her_. Messy hair, slightly oversized front teeth, hands gesticulating wildly as she talked to Mrs. Granger, wearing cutesy children's clothes. Harry could hear her voice, high pitched and a child's, but not quite make out what she was saying. And for the next minute while she was in view he just watched unable to turn away as Hermione talked and moved and acted _alive_.

And then she went into Flourish and Blott's. Harry sat there for a moment, and reflexively started to tease his imaginary Hermione about how she'd dressed as a kid. And as he did he felt like he'd been brutally kicked in the stomach; she was dead and not able to hear him. The image of the girl he'd just seen was replaced by _his _Hermione, smiling at him, laughing, reading in the common room… dozens of images went through his mind on top of each other. And the most tearing emotional anguish he'd ever experienced ripped through him. Far worse than what it felt like when she died (because he'd repressed, refused to think it, he'd needed to be strong so he could kill) - she was _dead dead dead dead_. She'd always be _dead dead dead dead_. He might be in the past, but that living girl _wasn't _her and never could be.

_His _Hermione, the girl who'd saved his life so many times, the girl he'd loved, the best friend anyone could possibly want, his brilliant wonderful best friend was dead because he stunned Voldemort. And that would never change. She'd never fulfill the dreams she had, she'd never free the house elves, she'd never have a successful career, she'd never read another book, she'd never write a book. She would never fulfill her potential, or grow old or be a mother or be anything, all because she'd been blown to bits at eighteen.

And part of Harry had never admitted it to himself. He'd always needed her, so he pretended she was still with him. He'd read books because she pushed him to. He'd have conversations with her about new ideas, he enjoyed her worrying over him when he did stupid things with his broom. And so much more. At night he'd imagine her with him, and it would be alright. He wasn't alone.

But all of that had been in his head. And unlike the girl he just saw she was dead.

Harry felt a tight lump in his throat and his eyes start to water. He couldn't push it away this time, but he wouldn't break down in public. Harry ran to the apparition point and jumped without thinking, going somewhere that felt safe. And then surrounded by trees and a burbling creek he broke down and sobbed; he thought of how she was gone, and how he missed her, and how he was so _sorry_. Slowly his grief expanded, it wasn't just Hermione who was gone. There were others he'd lost: Neville, during the Battle of Hogwarts, with an ill fitting sweater and brilliant wand work; Luna with her mismatched shoes, elfin features and blonde hair, telling him that that Dumbledore's Army had been like having friends; Dobby wearing a pile of hand knit hats; Molly giving him a tight hug and a sweater that made him part of the family - and so many others.

He'd never allowed himself to truly grieve for them because it had felt like if he didn't grieve they weren't gone. But now he cried until he had no more tears and the sobbing slowly receded and he felt drained. And as he leaned with his suddenly tiny body against a tree Harry realized this was the spot where he'd started the night dancing with Hermione to cheer her up and ended in her arms. He'd returned often when he needed to feel close to her.

The clearing was younger; many trees were larger in his memories and that large old tree would be a big log in 6 years. Still it was mostly the same. Somehow seeing nature sent back in time, not just humans and their buildings, made it feel real. He was really here. He was really eleven again. And everything had been reset.

It was time to say goodbye to her. Harry had always intended to hang onto the memory forever - but here _now _he knew she'd want him to let go. To be happy without pretending, and to eventually find new friends. Perhaps to eventually find a new lover. But Harry's mind recoiled from that thought; he needed to let go of her imaginary presence, but that didn't mean he needed to completely move on yet.

So as the long summer evening slowly turned to night Harry spent hours bringing to mind his friends and reliving the good times and saying goodbye.

Harry's plans were obvious. He was going to do what should have been done the first time. Protect his people. Especially Hermione, she might not be _his _Hermione but she was still _a_ Hermione. And she was going to live a wonderful life where she had an opportunity to grow and learn and read. She was going to live to ninety, choose any career she wanted, and not be hurt by discrimination from the bigots of the wizarding world.

Hermione wasn't the only one, Neville, Luna, Dobby, Ginny, George and Fred, Lupin, Sirius - even Ron. They were all his people. And he was going to protect them from their enemies. All of the death eaters, including the ones in that leaky bucket Azkaban would die. Voldemort would be permanently destroyed. And he'd kill others - definitely Umbridge and maybe Fudge - everyone who'd worked to pass laws that would hurt Hermione, or Dobby, or Lupin. They were his enemies and he'd kill them.

Harry knew it would take years before he was ready to move. His body and magical core were simply not ready to use as much magic as he would need to kill them over a few days. And if he didn't kill almost all his enemies fast they'd flee and organize and become a bigger problem. Also there was no real hurry. It wasn't until after sixth year that it all went to hell. So he'd wait until before that year to kill all of the death eaters. But there were many things he had to do earlier. He needed to figure out how to free Sirius and Dobby. They couldn't wait.

Also Voldemort, it would be safest to kill him immediately. Harry had once taken down a wizard in China who had a horcrux, and to do so he'd been taught a modified horcrux ritual. The murder of someone whose soul was already split could be used to force the remainder of the soul into an object. Harry could give Quirrelmort an opportunity to kill the unprotected Boy-Who-Lived, and then spring a trap on Voldemort. It would definitely be best to do it before the start of the term, and even in his current condition it should be easy and safe. Voldemort was stupidly overconfident. After he made this plan Harry felt a spasm of anger at Dumbledore, like he did every time he remembered how _easy _it was to permanently remove someone protected by a horcrux. Should he kill Dumbledore as well?

Part of Harry desperately wanted to. But Dumbledore was useful, and he wasn't _evil_; he was a horrible failure as a leader, but he had the right goals. If Harry could let Hermione go, shouldn't he also let that hatred go? It was unimportant in this world too; he'd never follow Dumbledore's sick, indirectly murderous ideology here.

Harry knew he also needed to decide what was he going to do at Hogwarts. How would he deal with the children that were clones of his friends?

After a minute's thought Harry shrugged, he'd play it by ear. He knew he'd never have the same relationships with them that he had had with the friends he grew up with. They were kids and he was a great warrior who'd seen more bloodshed than almost anyone. Perhaps he would simply not get along with them at all; it might even be best if he didn't try. But no matter what he'd protect them.

* * *

_Thankyou for reading and reviews are fun to read_


	3. Chapter 3

JK Rowling owns Harry Potter

* * *

Hermione Granger felt miserable, it was her 12th birthday and nobody cared. Her parents had sent a card and a few impersonal gifts, but she had no friends. Again. None of her housemates liked her, Ron and Lavender made fun of her hair, her teeth, and the way she spoke. And they were all mad at her because she told McGonagall when Ron and Dean left the tower after curfew to look for Ron's missing rat. They became even angrier when the rat was never found, which was completely _irrational_; she hadn't stopped them from looking for the rat (though she tried) she just told McGonagall about it later.

She'd really hoped - McGonagall had said her house would be like her family, and Hermione had always wanted siblings - but now, after three weeks Hermione was convinced she'd never have any friends. She was too smart and different, and she would never play along when someone did something wrong. Hermione cried in a bathroom after her first class, but then she determinedly got up. She didn't want to be friends with them anyways. They were boring, they didn't like books and they constantly broke the rules. Hermione washed her face and marched to the library to find something to read. Books were the right way to celebrate her birthday.

She'd only been reading _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ for twenty minutes when she heard a chair being pulled out from her table. Looking up she saw Harry Potter standing there. Hermione thought he was weird, she'd seen him once undo a transfiguration that was perfect and replace it with a worse one. She'd already known he could use really advanced magic, they met on the train and Harry found Neville's toad using a spell which Hermione hadn't read about. When she looked it up it turned out the spell wasn't taught until fourth year. And Harry never raised his hand in class, but when a teacher made him answer a question he always got it right. If he knew the answers why didn't he want the teachers to know?

Hermione also felt sorry for Harry. When she met him on the train Hermione told him about all of the books that described his defeat of You-Know-Who, and he looked like he wanted to cry; which made Hermione realize it _had _been insensitive, his parents had died. People shouldn't constantly bring it up. Harry was very nice when Hermione apologized and she had hoped they might be friends. But Harry was sorted into Slytherin, while Hermione was a Gryffindor. All of the Gryffindors had been very surprised to see the boy-who-lived sorted into the house for dark wizards. Especially since both of his parents had been Gryffindors.

One day before potions Hermione overheard Draco and Pansy talk about Harry. "Our _new celebrity_ refused to talk to me again," Draco said, "He's so stuck up, he thinks because he is famous that he is better than a Malfoy. He'll learn better someday. I've told my father about him."

Harry read books while eating and Hermione had never seen him talk to anyone at the Slytherin table. Half the time he didn't show up to meals at all. Hermione wondered if maybe he wasn't stuck up, but just shy. Neville didn't talk much, and he certainly wasn't stuck up. But Harry tried to annoy Snape in their potions class, and always answered teachers with a clear confident voice. So maybe he _was_ stuck up.

And here he was now, standing next to the red chair he'd pulled out. "Do you mind if I sit?" Harry quietly gestured at the chair. Hermione was too surprised to do more than nod and watch him sit down. Harry looked like he was about to say something, but instead stopped and looked at the wooden table with a scowl. Hermione's excitement at being approached by a fellow student slowly faded as he sat there.

Harry didn't have a book, or any papers, so he probably wanted to talk to her, but it had been almost two minutes. And she'd been enjoying her book. As Hermione stared at him she noticed something, and finally spoke, "Was there something you wanted; also did you know, your robe is a bit stained?" Hermione gestured at his sleeve.

Harry looked up with a bright smile, and Hermione looked through his glasses into his clear green eyes for a moment before he spoke, "ah well, yes - years of dirty living conditions and all, always forget to use cleaning charms. I - well I noticed you don't have any friends."

Hermione felt like she'd been kicked. A Slytherin, who not only didn't have any friends _either_, but who apparently didn't even talk to anyone, wanted to rub it in. Anger warred with tears - how _dare _he come to her refuge and do this.

Harry's face took a horrified expression, "No, no, no - I, I didn't mean it like that, I mean I don't have any friends either - no - that's not better, I - I think you're brilliant and would like to be your friend. Uh…"

There was something humorous about how he sat there, blushing and rubbing the back of his head while he looked away from her, trying to find something better to say. And caught between tears and a giggle Hermione felt a blossoming of hope.

After a moment Harry turned back to face her, "I'm an idiot, but I _really_ do want to be friends."

"Why?" Hermione replied in a shaky voice, she'd been on the edge of tears and it wasn't completely gone.

"Well, you like to read, and I like to read, and you - you seem like you will be a very brave and loyal friend, I know once you care for someone, you will always be there for them and that you are a wonderful brilliant person." Harry paused, "And it really isn't any fun to be alone."

There was something about the way Harry leaned forward and held her eyes that convinced Hermione he was serious - somehow he saw _that_ in her. The thought that she _would _be a brave and loyal friend made Hermione blush brightly, and made her want to be what he saw in her. And there was something terribly sad about how he spoke his last sentence - as though he had been alone in vastly deeper way than she could imagine. And it made Hermione want to reach out and hug him.

Hermione nervously wrung her hands while looking down for a moment before she asked in a squeaky voice "Do you really not have any friends?"

"Nope, you're the only one." Harry's assumption that they _were _friends made Hermione feel warm inside, like a spring of happiness was bubbling up in her chest.

"You don't have any friends in Slytherin? The houses _are_ supposed to be our families at Hogwarts." Hermione then asked, suddenly feeling protective of Harry "They haven't treated you meanly have they?"

"Nothing like that, I just don't like Slytherins" Harry replied with a wince.

"But you _are _Slytherin."

His pained expression grew, "I know. Doesn't mean I have to like them." "Besides," Harry continued in a whiny voice "they are all terribly immature."

Hermione giggled. And Harry flashed her a bright smile. "So, friends then?"

"Friends", Hermione reached across the table to shake his hand.

There was a short pause "So what is your favorite thing about Hogwarts so far?" And with that question Harry proceeded to draw Hermione out, letting her talk about her books, and what she found most interesting, and how she worried about homework. It was wonderful, her parents never had time to just listen to her, and she'd never had a close friend.

Hermione had only ever _really _talked to teachers, and not since she'd come to Hogwarts. McGonagall was too imposing for her to approach. Hours passed excitedly before Hermione became brave enough to ask her own questions, like where Harry was when he didn't eat in the Great Hall, or why he never raised his hand in class despite knowing the answers, or why didn't he like Slytherin.

The next day Hermione woke up scared, perhaps it had been a dream, or Harry was playing a vicious prank on her; did she really have a friend? He wasn't in the Great Hall for breakfast but he often wasn't. Hermione looked for the kitchen Harry told her about the previous day, and on the walk Harry found her.

"Hullo Hermione, are you looking forward to Snape today - want to share a table in potions? - anyways have you had breakfast yet, I'd love to introduce you to the house elves, friendliest most wonderful creatures in the world."

Hermione responded with a wide smile "I'd love to meet them, are you sure it is okay to just eat in the kitchen?"

And so they went, comparing class schedules, joking and meeting house elves.

* * *

Hermione talked more than Harry, she'd be interested in something, and he'd ask and then _listen_. Hermione had never had a friend who would let her talk for hours. But when Harry did talk he was brilliant - far smarter and more knowledgeable than even Hermione. That was also wonderful and new, to have someone who wasn't a teacher who could understand the things she cared about.

One day Harry showed Hermione his broom. Hermione looked at it shocked, "That's - that's against the rules Harry - they'll expel you for it. You - you need to get rid of it."

Harry smirked, "No the list of offenses you can actually be expelled for is very short - I checked - and while I can be _whipped _for having a broom, I can't be expelled."

Hermione was briefly torn from her shock to respond, "Harry if you'd just _read _Hogwarts a History you'd know they stopped whipping students when Armando Dippet became headmaster in 1913." Hermione paused, and looked between the broom and Harry's smirk, "Goodness, you _really _snuck a broom into Hogwarts." Hermione asked in a small voice, "They _really _can't expel you for this?"

Harry nodded with a neutral face.

"Then - then I'm going to tell McGonagall - you shouldn't have a broom as a first year, its against the rules." Hermione though watched Harry instead of marching off as part of her felt she should.

"Do you really think you should?" Harry asked quietly.

Hermione's stomach clenched, as she looked rapidly between the broom and Harry, _he would abandon her if she told on him_. As Hermione started to work herself into a panic Harry touched her arm and said sharply, "Hermione."

She looked at him wide eyed, and Harry held her eyes with an intent gaze, "_Nothing _you can do will make me less your friend. I will _always _be there for you no matter what. You should always do what you think is right, and I will never be angry if you do. Do you understand?" Hermione looked at his serious face for another minute, but when he spoke in _that _tone Hermione always believed Harry. The panic that had gripped her dissolved and was replaced by a feeling of warmth towards Harry. He wouldn't hate her if she did the right thing and told on him. Hermione looked back at Harry who now smiled at her; she didn't think he'd even be bothered.

It was almost unbelievable, that someone would be _okay _with her snitching on them to the teachers. That thought gave Hermione a moment of epiphany, _no wonder_ Ron and Dean were so angry at her. She wouldn't like it if she did something she thought was right like searching for a missing pet and then somebody told the teachers.

Harry said after a minute, "What I meant to ask is are you really sure the right thing to do is to tell the teachers about my broom."

There was something about how Harry spoke which felt familiar. Why was he even showing her the broom, he _knew _how she felt about breaking rules, he _knew _she'd told McGonagall about Ron and Dean. If he'd been testing her to see if she would break the rules for him it would make sense - but Hermione smiled as she felt a rush of affection for Harry, she now knew he would never do that. So why show her? 'Are you really sure that is the right answer?' - it sounded like something a teacher would ask when they were pushing her to think harder about the material in a class.

Hermione's mouth fell open as she realized what Harry was doing. She stared at her friend incredulously for a minute, "You're weird."

"I suppose -"

"No I mean _really, really, really _weird." Hermione smiled widely as she watched Harry's mouth settle into a twisted expression that couldn't decide if it was supposed to be a frown or a smile, "Goodness, you are the weirdest person I've ever even heard about - literally no other first year in the _entire_ world would show a friend a broom they'd smuggled into the castle because they thought she needed an ethics lesson."

Harry had a very sheepish expression as he rubbed the back of his head, "Yes - well. Back to the question."

Hermione said with certainty, "The rules are the rules, and you aren't supposed to break them."

Harry nodded, "Well, suppose there was an evil snake wandering around the castle petrifying people, and you thought Draco might be controlling it, would you steal a book from the restricted section to learn how to brew polyjuice, steal the needed supplies from Snape, and then brew the potion in the bathroom Moaning Myrtle is haunting, so you could sneak into the Slytherin dorm rooms and find out if it actually was Draco?"

Harry was awfully enthusiastic about his hypothetical, and it was a bit odd, "Honestly, have I mentioned that you are weird? Also if someone was controlling an evil snake from the Slytherin dorm rooms, it would _obviously _be you."

Harry got that pained frown he always had when his presence in Slytherin was mentioned, "Anyways, the point is if you are trying to stop evil snakes it is okay to break the rules - uh really think about what you would do in that situation, if you knew the teachers weren't taking your warning seriously."

Hermione tried to. What _would _she do? Suppose she really was convinced Draco was petrifying students, and - suppose Harry was one of the petrified students. Imagining Harry hurt gave Hermione a sick feeling; she _knew _if Harry was petrified and she didn't think the teachers were doing their best to find the culprit she _would _break any rule to help him. "Oh," Hermione said in a small surprised voice.

She looked at Harry's broad smirk, and snapped "Yes, _I suppose _I would break the rules _then_. But your broom is a toy - don't look hurt, I don't care how expensive it is, or that it is a Nimby whatever - its still a toy."

Harry laughed, "I suppose it is," then he added seriously, "It is a completely different situation from the evil snake,. _you _wouldn't break the rules to entertain yourself. But the question is should you tell McGonagall that I am."

Hermione frowned as she thought about it, why did she tell the teachers anyways? It wasn't like she'd been asked to tell every time other students broke the rules. But usually there were good reasons for the rules. A lot of the time when students broke the rules they were bothering other people. And brooms were dangerous, she remembered how Neville fell off his broom during their first flying lesson; he wasn't hurt because Harry caught him with a _wingardium leviosa_, but still brooms were scary and dangerous. Though Hermione had seen Harry fly. They weren't dangerous for him.

As Hermione thought, she realized the real reason she'd always told was because she wanted to be liked by her teachers, and was annoyed when other students weren't like her. People were _supposed _to follow rules and she would do her best to make them. But - Hermione didn't _need _approval from teachers anymore. She had Harry - and _obviously _expecting everyone to act like her was stupid.

After spending several minutes thinking Hermione finally turned to Harry and said seriously, "Alright, but if I ever see you doing something which I think is dangerous I _will _tell McGonagall."

Harry gave her a smile which made Hermione feel warm and cared for, "I wouldn't want you to do anything else." He then slapped her on the back, "Now would you like me to teach you how to fly her?"

Hermione squeaked out "No - I can just watch you."

* * *

Harry had an odd - was friendship the right word? - with Ron's twin brothers. He constantly pranked the famed troublemakers. Even before Harry befriended Hermione she would see them suddenly sporting Slytherin colors and black hair - and one time they had Snape's voice for a day. Several times they had 'kick me' signs on their backs, that stayed put even if they changed shirts.

It was two weeks after Hermione became friends with Harry that he told her he was the one doing it. Hermione had found Harry laughing while the twins staged an impromptu karaoke performance with Snape's voice. It was another month before the twins figured out who had been pranking them.

When they did they caught Hermione in a corridor between classes. It was frightening at first to have the much taller pair surround her, but then they started to talk. "Miss Granger," the one Hermione labelled 'twin on the left' began, before his brother continued, "It has come to our attention,"

"that your friend, the remarkable, extraordinary, Harry Potter"

"Is in fact the greatest pranking mind in Hogwarts today."

"Could you help us meet him?"

Hermione's eyes bounced between the twins as they took turns in this odd conversation, before finding at the end two pairs of adorable puppy eyes begging her to help. "Wait a moment, - you finally figured out it has been Harry all along - and now you want to be friends?"

The twins looked at each other for a moment and then both turned to her, and shook their heads up and down, "yep".

"You aren't angry … or planning to get back at him?"

"Well..." twin on the right drawled.

"We certainly aren't _angry_", twin on the left finished "but…"

"We do want to get him back."

"And maybe you could help!"

Again they adopted that pleading expression, and Hermione responded with a stern voice, "Why would I help you prank my friend."

The two looked at each other again, and after a moment turned back to her and said together "Because he deserves it!"

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, and then shut it. Goodness, Harry _really _did deserve it. And he'd enjoy it, "Okay, I'm in."

When Hermione tagged Harry with the sticker they gave her that switched his robes to the Gryffindor colors and turned his hair red he laughed for a full minute. And this started his friendship with the twins. They'd share ideas - which mostly involved Harry pointing out things they did wrong when trying to stop his pranks or when they tried to sneak something onto him. But the biggest part of their friendship was a constant prank war. Hermione occasionally helped both sides, and even more occasionally was targeted herself.

"Its all good fun" Harry explained when Hermione asked. "And its also good practice. The two are so good it would be a shame to let them just face the weak opposition Hogwarts naturally gives them, and you can't learn Constant Vigilance without someone giving you a really good reason to be paranoid."

"You are _trying _to make Fred and George paranoid?"

"Yes! Exactly - or, ummm, it will be good for them?"

"Have I mentioned that you're weird?" Hermione asked before walking off shaking her head with a smile.

* * *

Hermione knew Harry wasn't normal. Normal first years were not vastly better at pranking than a pair of third years who'd practiced for years. Normal first years didn't make their transfigurations _too good _when they made mistakes. Normal first years didn't spend two hours exercising every single day. Normal first years didn't know enough about runes and magical theory and charms to _safely _modify a Nimbus 2000 to fly faster. And of course there were other things, like showing her a banned item to teach a lesson.

He seemed too mature - sometimes when Harry tried to give her advice about how to deal with Ron and Lavender she felt as though it was an adult giving those little tidbits of wisdom that would supposedly help but really just showed that the adult was clueless. But Harry's games with the twins, and his childish delight in getting her to complain about him breaking minor rules was not mature at all.

The question was why, Hermione tried asking a few times - but Harry never gave a serious answer. Though she did learn things about Harry with some of her questions "Were you actually trained by Dumbledore for years and only interacted with people over 70 during your entire childhood - is that why you're so weird?"

Hermione expected Harry to smile at her teasing, instead he smacked the table with an angry scowl "Dumbledore is useless - completely useless - he'd never _train _anybody if he could just give them useless trivia and send them to die pointlessly."

Harry paused for a moment as he tried to calm himself, "I think most of the deaths during the war were his fault - he could have done more, and should have done more - if he'd not been such a fool my parents would be alive. Sirius would have received a trial, and we wouldn't live in a world where You-Know-Who's political ideals are being passed into law. The man inspires belief - and people live up to what he wants from them and then they die without achieving anything that matters. I hate him, I really, really hate him, I hate him more than You-Know-Who."

As Harry spoke he leaned towards Hermione as his face became redder and she shrank back. Hermione was shocked - she'd never seen Harry angry before. Nothing ever seemed to perturb him - but Harry sounded vicious when he talked about Dumbledore.

When he finished Harry looked at her, and then deflated. "I'm sorry Hermione, I shouldn't talk about this - there are things that almost no one is aware of - I shouldn't speak of it, and won't. But no, Dumbledore never trained me at all."

Ever since she'd read about him in _Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts _Dumbledore had been one of Hermione's heroes. Harry had become another, she didn't know the details, but she had a deep confidence that beyond simply defeating You-Know-Who as a baby Harry was someone great and special. So it was shocking to discover that one of her heroes despised another. Hermione wondered why Harry was so angry - clearly he blamed Dumbledore, unfairly of course, for what had happened to his godfather Sirius Black. _The Daily Prophet _talked about it for weeks when it was discovered in September that the man Sirius had been accused of killing was still alive, and had in fact been a death eater himself.

However obviously there was more to Harry's dislike of Dumbledore than just that - perhaps he knew something about why You-Know-Who attacked his parents. Hermione thought there must be a deep tragedy or misunderstanding behind a wonderful person like Harry despising Dumbledore.

* * *

Hermione had a girlish crush on Harry. Brilliant, caring, brave, adventurous and her friend. He always helped her, and he always knew what to say to make her feel better. And, despite his ill fitting clothes and being very small, he was cute. With his glasses framing bright green eyes and his confident posture. And when Harry was serious there was a presence about him and his eyes would flash and you _had _to listen. And he gave her great ideas about what books to read, and then would _listen _to her talk about them. And he taught her valuable lessons. And Harry _believed _in her in a way no one, not her parents and not herself ever had before. Harry was basically perfect.

However any time Hermione tried to hint about how she felt, he'd withdraw, or change the subject, or even once he avoided her for hours. He claimed he'd needed to think about something - but it convinced Hermione that Harry didn't _like_ her. However after a cry, Hermione decided it was okay. She wasn't pretty, and what mattered was that Harry was her friend - and after the day he showed her his broom she _knew_ deep down he'd always be there for her no matter what. It hurt, but it wasn't _important _that he didn't like her like that. Besides Harry was, though Hermione often forgot, younger than her. She'd read that boys matured slower than girls, so maybe he would notice her when he was older.

* * *

About a month before exams, on May 2, Harry didn't show up for classes. Hermione hadn't seen him that morning, which happened occasionally, but missing potions didn't. And then she couldn't find him in the kitchen at lunch time, he never came by the library, and when she saw Theodore Nott he told her no one in Slytherin had seen Harry all day. So Hermione spent the afternoon searching for him.

The entire time Hermione's sense of anxiety built, driven stabs of terror that maybe his broom _hadn't _been safe, and he was splattered somewhere in the Forbidden Forest. During dinner she went to the staff table and tried to convince McGonagall to look for Harry. Dumbledore became very serious when she said Harry was missing, and took her to his office. But then Dumbledore looked at a weird object and said Harry was fine.

This helped, but - he was _Harry_. If he wanted to spoof whatever system Hogwarts used to make sure students were safe she was _sure_ he could. So Hermione continued to look for him, with her anxiety levels slowly increasing again as it became darker. It was shortly after curfew that Hermione found Harry. He was in an unused corridor on the seventh floor next to a tapestry with trolls attempting to dance. There was a bottle of fire whiskey that Harry drank directly out of while the Bloody Baron floated next to him looking sadly at the boy.

When he saw her Harry stumbled up and laughed to the ghost, "it seems I'm done - you can have the rest," Harry said magnanimously gesturing at the bottle.

Hermione grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him towards the dungeons while rapidly speaking, "Harry, how _dare _you get _drunk _in Hogwarts - where did you even find the alcohol - if it was Fred and George I will _kill _them. Don't you even _care_ that alcohol is bad for you; you'll get sick and won't grow right. And, and you shouldn't have disappeared - I was so scared that you'd killed yourself. Are you listening to me Harry?"

He'd been stumbling along behind her, but had paused and when Hermione turned to look at Harry he clutched his stomach for a moment, before throwing up on a suit of armor. As Hermione watched in disgust Harry tried to use _scourgify _to clean the mess, but only succeeded after three tries.

It took five more minutes for Hermione to drag Harry to the Slytherin entrance, while maintaining a disapproving silence and stiff frown she hoped spoke louder than words. But there was also an undertone of hurt and fear - couldn't he tell _her _what was bothering him? Didn't he realize that she'd do anything for him? What could lead Harry to do this?

When they reached the entrance Hermione turned to go, but before she could walk more than a step Harry caught her sleeve - in the darkness she could barely see him, but he seemed far more sober than he had, "I'm sorry Hermione, I shouldn't have scared you by disappearing. But it just - I've always been too busy to think on the anniversary. But this time -" Harry paused for so long Hermione thought he was done, but then he continued this time in a sad voice that broke her heart - "all of them are dead, _she _is dead. And I thought - I thought I'd let her go and was done mourning but -" Harry paused this time to wipe his cheeks, and he had tears in his voice, "memories can creep up on you and, and…." After a final pause Harry walked over and gave Hermione a tight hug, and whispered into her ear - "thank you for hunting me down, and taking care of me - and thank you for being here for me, you have no idea how lonely I'd been for so long before I met you."

Then Harry stepped back and held her at arm's length and said "Alright, goodnight Hermione - do you want me to help you dodge Filch?"

Hermione paused for a long moment choked with a desperate desire to help Harry be happy, "Harry can't you - couldn't you tell me about them? Wouldn't it help if you shared? You _know _you shouldn't hold things in - and you _know _I care for you more than anyone and would do anything to help you."

Harry squeezed her shoulders and then let go and stepped back, and said with a sad smile, "I can't - when you know my secret, when you know what I really am you will hate me. No," Harry said with that completely confident tone that Hermione always believed "when you find out you _will _hate me Hermione. And that is the way it should be."

Hermione started to speak but, Harry silenced her with his hand - "I've already said more than I should. So, good night."

After Hermione nodded he turned to open the door to the Slytherin common room, but before he could Hermione called out - "Promise me you won't ever do that again - disappear like that."

Harry looked at her and said seriously, "I promise - never again."

After that Hermione stopped trying to figure out Harry's secret. She didn't believe him, not really, but his seriousness when he promised she would hate him, scared her. So whenever bits of the puzzle floated through her mind she subconsciously refused to think about it.

* * *

_Thank you for reading, and remember reviews are fun to read_


	4. Chapter 4

_JK Rowling owns Harry Potter_

AN: In my head canon Dumbeldore is incompetent and doesn't take people dying seriously enough. However, he isn't the manipulative old bastard who does illegal things to control Harry's life. Harry is living with Sirius, and Dumbledore didn't try to stop him.

* * *

Hermione met Harry's godfather when Harry and Sirius joined her family on their vacation in France. Hermione had grabbed Harry and gave him a huge hug, Sirius laughed "just like James - girls jumped him all the time too. You must be the brilliant Hermione Granger, Harry talks constantly about you."

Sirius was a charming man who could pull off a moustache. He was hyperactive and jumped from idea to idea, and if he wasn't talking he was planning mischief. Sirius dominated the conversation at dinner, with tales of Hogwarts and the sometimes vicious pranks he'd pull with James and Remus "Once we made all Snivellus' clothes disappear in the Great Hall - he had to walk all of the way back to the dungeons in his underwear." Or "Snape was so _serious _about his potions work, so we switched his essay with a paper written by a friend of ours who hated potions - it was the rat," Sirius added with a grimace, "Sluggy of course knew it was a prank, but Snape got _so _angry." Sirius grinned at the happy memory. Hermione thought the marauders sounded like bullies.

Like Harry, Sirius loved flying and Quidditch, "James was a beautiful flyer, born natural, but the things Harry pulls off are amazing." Sirius said admiringly, "It's a crime you aren't playing…."

Harry responded smugly, "wouldn't be fair, I'm too good - besides," Harry frowned, "we wouldn't want the snakes to win."

"I keep forgetting you aren't a Gryff," Sirius shook his head sadly.

"Me too," Harry replied, also sadly.

Hermione realized Harry not only disliked Slytherin, but saw himself as a Gryffindor - _why_? His parents were Gryffindors, but that didn't explain why he seemed to _forget _he wasn't in Gryffindor. Hermione eventually figured out it was part of the _mystery_.

The damage from Azkaban was clear; after a few minutes of quiet Sirius become twitchy and nervous. Hermione thought his compulsive talking and activity was because he felt anxious when left alone with his thoughts. When Hermione told Harry she was worried about Sirius, Harry said he'd forced him to see a mind healer. Sirius was far healthier than he'd been when he first got out.

Sirius lived in the past. Every story was about Hogwarts or the fight against You-Know-Who; Harry was his only other topic of conversation. He treated Harry like James, a best friend and partner in crime, not a child in his care. And Harry changed around Sirius - it shocked Hermione to watch Harry try to gain his approval. At Hogwarts while Harry did crazy things, he always thought before acting. But if Sirius suggested something Harry immediately did it, and then found a way to top Sirius' suggestion.

Sirius played pranks on tourists and other beach goers to keep himself occupied; Harry would play along and sometimes come up with new ideas. Harry's pranks at Hogwarts were always fun for everybody. And the twins lived up to Harry's example - their pranks had become nicer and funnier during the year. But Sirius' ideas were sometimes mean, and when they were Hermione could see in Harry's eyes a moment of discomfort before he did what Sirius asked.

Sirius _was_ devoted to Harry, or at least to the idea of Harry. Sirius would obviously risk his life to protect his godson. And he did provide a friend for Harry to talk to and have fun with. But - Harry didn't need someone to protect him or die from him. And he _obviously_ didn't need someone who would convince him to jump into dangerous stunts, or who would talk him into mischief he wasn't comfortable with.

* * *

Hermione knew she needed to talk to Harry after watching him fly with Sirius on the fourth day of their vacation. Sirius kept cheering Harry as he plummeted toward the surf and pulled up at the last moment. Then Sirius dared Harry to dive bomb a flock of seagulls circling near the coast. Harry had been drinking a bit, and without pausing he flew above them and dived the densest part of the flock. Hermione couldn't see exactly what happened, but she thought Harry's broom clipped a bird at well over 100 kilometers an hour, and sent him spinning towards the ground. For a dizzying instant Hermione was terrified Harry would strike the beach head first, but he flung his hand out and used wandless magic to throw himself in the opposite direction.

Harry stabilized and flew to Hermione and her parents before jumping off the broom. He was shaky, but his eyes were brighter than she'd ever seen them, "Woah - the magic took a lot out of me." Harry sat on the beach and laughed at Sirius who flew in with a concerned expression - "_Ha _told you I'd nail them." Harry grinned showing his teeth, "Those seagulls will never forget the attack of the Potter."

Sirius took a deep breath and gave a shaky laugh of his own as he sat next to Harry, "Shit, James that was scary for a moment."

Harry laughed, "Its the risk that makes it fun. You know that."

Hermione was horrified as Sirius slapped Harry on the back, "that was incredible, never seen anything like it - you're definitely a chip off the old block."

Harry kept laughing, "Woah that was bloody fun." And after another minute of sitting there, breathing heavily, Harry laughed again, "that was so much fun."

Harry sat next to Hermione on the beach as they watched the sun slowly set - the adults had gone clubbing, since they trusted Harry and Hermione to be safe without supervision. After a moment of silence Hermione spoke, "Harry - you, you can't keep acting like this - you aren't your father, and he didn't have a broom modified like yours. You _will _kill yourself if you do everything Sirius suggests. At Hogwarts - you did scary things, but you were never _stupid_ about it." Hermione then added feeling anxious and uncomfortable, "Also, the way you've messed with tourists - you wouldn't have done that if you weren't trying to please Sirius. You-" Hermione paused and swallowed, scared she'd offend Harry, "I know you want to impress him because he is the first father figure you've had - but it isn't good for either of you when you pretend to be someone you aren't."

Harry frowned at the ground as he played with the yellow sand on the beach. After a minute Hermione started speak again, but Harry put his hand on her arm, and then smiled at her, "Hermione, I am thinking about what you said - my mind isn't quite as quick as yours, give me a minute."

Hermione watched Harry anxiously, as he absently grabbed handfuls of sand and let them pour through his fingers. Eventually Harry turned to her with a serious face, "I've always felt guilty about Sirius; I've never had anyone else who was _family _and an adult. You're right, it isn't safe, and it isn't me" Harry trailed off "I have things I need to do, so I can't die - I shouldn't do something like that without thinking it through. I also shouldn't try to act crazier than my father." Harry grimaced, "Since I heard all the stories I've _approved_ of my Mum more than my Dad -" Harry flashed Hermione a quick smile "She was a bit like you, you know - and well I wouldn't have done half the things I've done on this vacation without a… I guess, fear of being rejected by Sirius, being told 'you're less like your father than I thought - the risk would have made it fun for James'" Harry imitated Sirius' voice, as though quoting.

They sat staring into the sunset. Hermione wondered if she should say something else, maybe it was her turn to give the cliches Harry was occasionally fond of 'if he really loves you he will accept you as you are' or 'you need to be true to yourself'. But after a moment Hermione just scooted close to Harry and put her arm around his shoulder and leaned against him as they watched the red light glittering off the waves.

* * *

"It'll be more fun if we go together," Harry said, so Hermione's parents picked him and Sirius up at 12 Grimmauld Place before they drove to Charing Cross Road. Harry was sandwiched between Hermione and Sirius in the back of the silver Mercedes as he described a girl he'd met while introducing the twins to Sirius at the Weasley's house, "Luna is a very sweet girl and after a bit we definitely got along - but well her father is…" Harry trailed off.

"Bonkers, Xeno is completely bonkers" Sirius supplied with a grin.

Harry shrugged, "that's about it - and you know if _Sirius _thinks someone is round the bend." Harry grinned as Sirius smacked him on the back of the head. "Xeno publishes the _Quibbler_, which is half odd conspiracy theories, half imaginary animals - it's small circulation, mainly read for the humor value. Luna is very loyal to her father. You see her mother died two years or so back and since then Luna's been home schooled by Xeno. I think she _does _believe everything he says - but she _tells_ everyone to prove she loves her father."

Hermione nodded at Harry when he paused, "Anyways I'm worried she'll have trouble making friends, you know how children are - if someone refuses to conform…"

"So you want me to ignore the silly things she says, and try to be friends?" Hermione asked.

"You don't need to ignore them; just don't make fun of her."

When they reached the station and walked through the wall Harry found Luna and her father already standing outside of the train. Xeno Lovegood was a tall pale man with long white hair that looked a bit like Lucius Malfoy's, and a ragged white robe over a shirt with a bright clashing floral pattern. Luna was a pretty blonde with a distant expression and radish earrings, who smiled brightly when she saw Harry. "Hello Harry Potter, I am very glad to see you again." Hermione felt a stab of jealousy when Harry hugged the girl. Luna was far prettier than Hermione thought she'd ever be.

However Hermione had promised Harry she'd try to be friends with Luna, and she greeted the girl with a smile when Harry introduced them, "Hello Luna, this is my best friend Hermione Granger, Hermione this is Luna Lovegood."

As they dragged their trunks onto the train Luna turned to Hermione, "Harry said your parents are dentists, are they part of the Rotfang Conspiracy?"

Hermione had expected something like this, "Rotfang Conspiracy?"

Luna lowered her voice, and with a completely serious expression explained, "Some aurors are trying to bring down the ministry with a combination of dark magic and gum disease - I thought maybe they'd asked muggle tooth doctors for advice."

Hermione felt several conflicting emotions; surely Harry couldn't _like _her (or was her nonsense attractive?). Hermione thought Luna tensed up, as though she expected to be made fun of; Hermione remembered what it was like to be rejected by other children. It was very brave to say something Luna _knew _people would think was crazy. But the emotion that won was mild offense, "my parents _treat _gum disease" Hermione said stiffly, "they'd _never_ help spread it".

Luna intently watched Hermione then glanced away, and after a moment, "I apologize- I should have thought about that."

"Oh, its perfectly alright, no harm done - just remember, dentists _treat_ gum disease"

Luna gave Hermione a genuine smile like she'd shown Harry earlier, and with that the two were friends.

* * *

Four months later Hermione was almost hyperventilating with excitement when her parents arrived at 12 Grimmauld Place for Harry's Christmas party. Harry met her outside as soon as the car pulled up, and Hermione tackled him with a big hug. Harry laughed, "you haven't even seen what I got you."

The old house had been overloaded with an extravagant profusion of red and green streamers; the tree was an eye watering combination of extremely bright lights and lots of shiny ornaments which covered it so completely that barely any green was visible. Mistletoe and wreaths and covered every bare bit of wall.

Sirius laughed when he saw Hermione's parents staring incredulously at the decorations, "we let Dobby decide how to decorate the house".

Hermione had met the excitable house elf who worked for Harry and the decorations now made perfect sense. "Well I think its brilliant," Hermione said loyally, though not honestly. She liked Dobby: he was cute and adored Harry as much as she did. And while a _bit_ much the decorations did make the house look very Christmasy.

A moment later Luna and her father came through the floo, Luna looked around and smiled "the decorations are wonderful, Dobby did a very good job". Hermione hugged her friend with a smile. She should have known Luna would like the mess. Soon everyone arrived, Neville and his grandmum, the Weasleys and Professor Lupin were the guests Hermione knew best. Daphne Greengrass and her family were there for an hour but left early for another party. The house was crowded with everyone talking and laughing, and Dobby regularly popped up to give more cocoa or pastries.

After the present exchange Luna examined the mistletoe for nargles before joining Hermione and Ginny on a big red and gold sofa to happily discuss the presents they'd gotten. Hermione saw Harry and the twins stand by the big red brick fireplace, enthusiastically talking and snickering when they glanced at Sirius. Ron and Neville played a game of wizarding chess on a small garish table that Sirius had painted with yellow and red stripes; Ron stared intently at the beautiful board Sirius and Harry gave him, while Neville kept glancing at one of the herbology books he'd received. Eventually all of the kids played a long and enormously fun game of Exploding Snap, which Luna won.

Hermione's parents were quizzed by Mr. Lovegood and Mr. Weasley while standing next to the dark oak table Dobby had placed munchies and wine on; Mr. Weasley wanted to know exactly what a dentist did, but was confused by their explanations. Mr. Lovegood, while he knew they weren't involved with the Rotfang Conspiracy since dentists _treat_ gum disease, still wanted to know if they had any insights. Before they left Hermione overheard Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass talk with Neville's grandmum about how much they disliked the new undersecretary to the minister, Dolores Umbridge. Sirius and Professor Lupin spent the evening laughing together. At one point Hermione heard all the adults talk about how Barnabas Cuffe, the editor of _The Daily Prophet, _wanted muggle baiting to be legal.

Shortly before 10 o'clock Harry made them sing Christmas carols. "Forge and Gred," he ordered while handing out song books, "in the right key - not that awful thing you do during the opening feast."

Hermione was flushed with excitement and stuffed with pudding and turkey when her parents finally forced her to leave. Harry carried her presents out to the car, and gave her a big hug before she left. It had been the best Christmas ever, Hermione thought with a wide smile. Two years earlier she hadn't had any friends, and Hermione spent the evening reading a book at a boring Christmas party held by a dentist Hermione's parents knew from college. Being surrounded by laughter and friends was so much better; Hogwarts and Harry were the best things that ever happened to her.

* * *

The next years were wonderful and fun for Hermione. She was busy: Harry had arranged for her and Luna to work through a muggle home school curriculum with him so they wouldn't miss anything by going to Hogwarts. However Hermione was still less stressed about school than ever before. Though Harry pretended he wasn't that smart Hermione knew he was better at school than her. Of course this never bothered her; he was _Harry, _obviously he was the best at everything. But it was liberating to know she _wasn't _the smartest person in her generation. Since Hermione didn't need to prove she deserved that praise she was less stressed and enjoyed learning far more, and could goof off with friends without feeling guilty.

Hermione was surrounded by friends. While she was never 'popular' - and never became close to Parvati or Lavender - Hermione knew and liked almost everyone in her year. In addition to Neville, Luna and Ginny, Hermione became close friends with Daphne Greengrass, Ernie MacMillan and Susan Bones. Hermione thought without Harry she might not be good friends with anyone. Not only did he help her meet people, like Luna and the twins, Harry helped Hermione learn to be herself without being a bossy know-it-all.

Summer was always fun. Everyone went on vacation together, and the group of friends would spend weeks jumping from one house to another. Though they never stayed at Neville's house because his grandmum didn't want a horde of kids.

Harry was always Hermione's best friend; he was still the person who wouldn't get bored if she spent half an hour describing a book; he was still the person she wanted to tell first when she succeeded at casting a new spell; he was still the person she told as soon as she finished a major class project. And he was still mostly perfect.

Also Harry depended on her in a way he didn't their other friends; Harry had regular nightmares and once or twice a month he'd go to the Gryffindor table at breakfast, with dark circles around his eyes. He'd sit there silently and scowl at the table, and Hermione would babble about books, and homework plans, or once experiments Luna wanted to run where they tried to make cosmetic charms more _interesting_. Harry would slowly relax and after fifteen minutes he'd start to eat, and after twenty he'd give Hermione a smile that made her stomach flutter with happiness.

Hermione always made Harry spend May 2 with her. Usually Hermione forced him to teach her; one year he helped her get over her fear of flying and other years he taught her things not covered in their class about runes. Harry was good at everything, but runes was the class where Hermione was convinced Harry knew more than the professor. If Harry was talking, he couldn't brood. The next day Harry would always thank Hermione for being there with a hug, and it made Hermione feel happy and needed.

* * *

_Thankyou for reading, and remember: reviews can be fun to write_


	5. Chapter 5

_Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, who did write some truly excellent children's books. _

_Also multiple people seem to have been confused about when this chapter occurs. There was a massive time skip, and this chapter occurs after the fifth year, ie the year covered by Order of the Pheonix. So Hermione is 16, almost 17. _

* * *

Hermione hadn't expected the summer after her fifth year would be much fun - and she'd been right. Harry couldn't visit due to an internship he wasn't allowed to talk about. Hermione thought it probably was with the unspeakables, and no doubt it was terribly interesting and educational for Harry, but it meant their normal vacation plans could not happen. Just as bad Harry was barely responding to her letters, he'd only send a few sentences once or twice a week. It felt awful to be cut off suddenly after talking to Harry for at least an hour most days for the past five years.

Hermione had stayed with Luna already this summer, and next week everyone but Harry would stay for a week at the Burrow, but without Harry it wasn't the same. Hermione really missed him, and hoped he never took another job that kept him away from her. She didn't think that was selfish - Harry needed to be near his friends just like she needed to be near Harry.

So on the morning of June 30 Hermione felt a bit sorry for herself as she stumbled downstairs to grab breakfast. In between a gulp of coffee and a bite of muffin the tawny owl that brought her subscription to the Daily Prophet flew in. Hermione absently handed the owl a piece of bacon as she shook open the paper - only to drop her muffin as she absorbed the giant headline "New Terrible Dark Lord? Dozens Dead!" The story beneath read:

_Nothing like this has ever occurred, even You-Know-Who never killed on this scale. Much of the government is dead; the first attacks were on the Wizengamot last night, Minister Fudge, Lucius Malfoy, Albert Yaxley, Delores Umbridge and Theodore Nott among many others (full list on page 2) were killed by the assailant who was polyjuiced as the historian Bathilda Bagshot._

_After attacking the Wizengamot the killer broke into the Department of Mysteries, and killed the head unspeakable Saul Croaker along with three others. Then the killer stayed in the ministry, killing seven more, including five of the aurors hunting him. The aurors only knew he was gone when people started to die elsewhere._

_In Knockturn Alley, Borgin of Borgin and Burkes was the first killed and his shop was completely destroyed, following this three more businesses were destroyed with their owners and eight people doing business in the alley were killed over the next thirty minutes. As night fell people fled to their homes, expecting to be safe; sadly they were not. It is still not clear how many homes were attacked, as the anti apparition wards and destruction of floo connections make it hard to check, however, at least six attacks on houses are confirmed. Around 4 AM Azkaban prison was attacked. The warden is dead as are a majority of the prisoners._

_We are facing the greatest threat Magical Britain has seen since the Boy-Who-Lived saved us from You-Know-Who. Maybe an even a greater threat. At this paper we can only wonder, who is this new Dark Lord? What are his intentions? How does he choose who to kill? And can we hunt him down? Will Dumbledore be able to defeat him? Will Harry Potter?_

_Merlin! he just walked into the press room and killed my boss Barnabus Cuffe. He killed Barnabus right in front of me. He was polyjuiced as Lucius Malfoy; Barnie had his hands up and didn't even try to defend himself; the man just flicked his wand and Barnabus was blown apart. _

Hermione frantically turned to page 2. She pushed everything on the table out of the way so she could lay the paper flat, and didn't notice that a plate fell and cracked on the floor. Hermione read the long list with a pounding heart; they hadn't been alphabetized so she had to read every single name, and then she had to read them a second time to make sure she hadn't missed a name.

When she was done Hermione collapsed into her chair and let out a long breath. No one she cared about was dead: the Longbottoms hadn't been attacked, the Lovegoods hadn't been attacked, and the Weasleys hadn't been attacked. Most importantly Harry wasn't on the list; she'd been terrified when she read about the killings in the Department of Mysteries. She looked around and saw the broken plate, but for a minute felt too shaky to clean it up.

When Hermione stood up to clean the mess she imagined what her schoolmates with dead family must feel like; Draco wasn't a friend, but his father was dead. So were Crabbe and Goyle's parents. And Theodore Nott's father - even though Teddy didn't like his father it still must be awful to have him to die so suddenly. And while Neville's house hadn't been attacked, the uncle who'd thrown him out of a window once was dead. And a wizard she corresponded with just a few months ago about a paper in her magical theory class had died. And Hermione still felt scared, and would for weeks. He hadn't _yet _killed any of her friends, but he _might_.

A few hours later the entire gang - except Harry, who'd not responded to anyone's letters - had gathered at the Burrow. They crowded into the living room around an old Wizarding Wireless set as they listened for news. The actual murders seemed to have stopped, but dead bodies continued to be discovered as aurors checked people's houses to see if they were still alive. A pair had stopped by the Burrow an hour ago and stayed just long enough to hear who was there.

There was a barely touched pile of biscuits and cake on the counter. Molly cooked when nervous, but nobody was hungry. She bustled in and out of the room asking "would anyone like some tea?" Molly had a clock she kept glancing at, its hands pointed to where her family members were, and reassuringly they all pointed at home. But with a new dark lord you couldn't trust you were safe because a clock didn't point at mortal peril.

Mr. Lovegood sat on the edge of the Weasley's red sofa with his arm around Luna, with a quill scribbling into his notebook as he worked on the lead article for the next issue of the Quibbler; Hermione sat next to Luna and tightly gripped her hand as she desperately tried not to think about how Harry _still_ didn't answer.

Mr. Weasley looked old and sick in a dressing gown and cap while parts of his body uncontrollably spasmed every few minutes. The twins had told Hermione in a serious tone, "Dad fought You-Know-Who with Dumbledore, so he thought he could help the aurors find the attacker."

Fred finished for his brother, "An auror standing right next to him was blown apart, Dad woke up covered with bits and pieces of him - the healers say he'll be fine but the spell used to knock Dad out disables the nervous system for a while."

"Mum had to spoon feed him this morning," Ginny added in a worried voice.

Neville was on the far end of the faded sofa with his arm around Ginny. With every new announcement he'd squeeze her; Neville's grandmum was at a special session of the Wizengamot to pick the temporary minister and plan how to fight the new dark lord. The location was secret and Dumbledore was there, so it should be safe. But Neville had said, "the killer can find where it is, nobody else has been able to hide from him. And what if he _could _beat Dumbledore?"

There were no announcements about an attack on the session, instead the nasally voice of the host would read out, "Witnesses report seeing a suspicious man near Hogsmeade, could it be the killer?" and "Three bodies found next to the international portkey office in Diagon Alley."

Most of the broadcast was far more terrifying; they interviewed people who'd survived. "Mrs. Corner please tell us what you saw."

"It was horrible," Michael Corner's great aunt spoke with a badly slurred voice as she also was recovering from the spell the attacker used on Mr. Weasley, "he walked into the store and just waved his wand a bit, there wasn't any sound, and Borgin - Merlin, he was there alive one moment and a second later his blood was painted everywhere and he turned to me and I was _sure_ for a second I would die. I can't believe Borgin is dead, I've been friends with him since Hogwarts; I've spent the whole day shaking from this damn spell and wondering what I'll say to John about how I was there when his father was killed."

The host said cautiously, "I - I'm sorry to be the one to tell you. Martha, John Borgin was killed last night with his wife. I thought you knew."

"Excuse me, I - I need to go" there was a sound of stumbling as the woman left the room.

After she was gone the host said, "Merlin, I really thought she knew - John was Mrs. Corner's godson." There was a long silence, "I bloody hate him. I thought when You-Know-Who was defeated - I thought I'd never have to watch so many learn their families are dead again. It's sick, and it's wrong, and, by Merlin, I hope he dies horribly."

As she sat squeezing Luna's hand, Hermione knew she'd always remember this day; dark lords and wizarding wars had always been something which happened in books. She'd been alive when You-Know-Who was stopped, but it felt like history not part of her life. And now she was terrified. Now a horrific murderer was attacking people, and nobody could stop him. If he decided to kill her she'd die. If he decided to kill any of her friends, even Harry, they'd die. And she didn't no where Harry was.

Eventually the wireless announced Dumbledore was the provisional minister for magic. He'd hold the post until new elections were held in six months. Amelia Bones resigned as the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement after the spectacular failure of her aurors, and was replaced by Rufus Scrimgeour. Hermione had met Susan's aunt several times and thought it was unfair; Scrimgeour probably wouldn't have done better. Dumbledore spoke briefly, in an extremely grave tone, Hermione only remembered fragments of what he said, "Love is a greater magic than hate. We know we will triumph over evil due to the care we have for one another" and "do not hate him, let us pity this man, and all like him who live without love."

* * *

It was only after two days of frantic letters from Hermione that Harry sent a scribbled note "I'm fine, don't worry, I'm perfectly safe. Very busy though. I'm looking forward to seeing you again." Obviously Hermione did worry. Harry was from a old rich family - exactly the sort of person the killer might go after. And Sirius was from an even richer family with dark connections; Hermione was sure he'd have been killed at Azkaban if he'd still been there.

How Harry acted was very odd. He should have done more than send her a few short notes, and when Harry wrote longer letters several weeks after the original killings he never talked about the killings and ignored her questions and comments about them.

When she visited Luna's house Hermione shoved Harry's most recent letter in Luna's face, "What is bloody wrong with him?"

Luna grabbed the pair of glasses she'd claimed earlier let her see a small imaginary species; she looked carefully at the letter through the garish blue and pink lenses, "There definitely are signs of a wrackspurt infestation." Hermione felt irritated as Luna looked back at her and said seriously, while still wearing the spectrespecs, "Hermione, Harry doesn't want to talk about it: perhaps it brings up bad memories for him; maybe he's even been involved in trying to find the attacker and wants to focus on something more pleasant when talking to you."

That made sense. Hermione knew enough about his nightmares to know he'd lived through people close to him dying. So many dying so suddenly must have brought up awful memories. Especially if he knew more about who the new dark lord was than the general public; it was very possible that he did. What really was Harry's summer job?

The anxiety that had ebbed out over the past weeks spiked again as Hermione sat down on Luna's grey couch. Was Harry still in danger? Luna scooted next to her and gave Hermione a tight hug "I'm worried about him too - everyone I know of who was killed had been mean, and Harry can be a bit mean sometimes; I hope they realize he is always mean because he is really nice."

Hermione hugged Luna back; for the last weeks she'd felt like she had the time an emergency made her parents stay at work for hours after closing. They had been too busy to call her, and she knew they were probably fine but kept worrying more and more as time went by. Except when they finally called home Hermione knew they were okay. This didn't end. After a minute Luna continued, "I was really worried for Harry that first day when we were sitting together at the Weasleys' but if they wanted Harry they would have attacked him already. So I'm not worried anymore. Besides I'm sure they can tell he isn't really mean"

Hermione asked Luna, "You think mean people are being killed?" Hermione knew why Luna thought Harry could be mean, Luna was convinced the only reason her housemates didn't make her life miserable was because they were scared of Harry.

"Neville's uncle was really mean, you know what he did to Neville as a kid, and Barnabus Cuffe said really awful things about Daddy and the Quibbler. And - " Luna glanced side to side and lowered her voice, "I overheard a relative of his talking once, supposedly, he'd rape muggle women and then obliviate them."

"So you think our new dark lord is a vigilante who kills bad people?" Hermione asked skeptically. "Also," Hermione firmly added before Luna could respond, "It doesn't matter - nobody should take justice into their own hands, and anyone who decides they have the right to kill dozens of people is a monster."

Luna pulled her legs beneath her on the couch, "Oh, I suppose you are right - even Batman never kills anybody. Still I feel better thinking they are only killing bad people."

Hermione responded sharply, "Murder is murder. It doesn't matter who is murdered - and I don't believe everyone he killed is a rapist or otherwise bad."

* * *

A week before Hogwarts started, Harry was back. Moments after she received the owl announcing his arrival at 12 Grimmauld Place Hermione grabbed her permanent portkey and was there. Harry dozed on the red and yellow couch in the front living room. He'd lost ten pounds, his skin looked whiter than she'd ever seen it, he had prominent bruised circles around his eyes and a red rash that extended up his right forearm.

Sirius walked into the room behind her and touched Hermione on shoulder to lead her out. Sirius looked tired too - and he was nervous and twitchy, like the first year after Azkaban. He'd seen a mind healer for two years after that awful place. Hermione wondered if the murders had triggered flashbacks, and if he'd been as scared for himself and Harry as she had been for him and Harry.

"Best let Harry sleep for a bit, he's been - sick - only mostly recovered now. Just like James - no rest, always pushing himself too hard." They sat around the big wooden table in the kitchen, and the way Sirius glanced repeatedly towards the living room door frightened Hermione. Harry had scared even _Sirius_.

As Hermione sipped the excellent tea Dobby had given her, she asked, "What happened to his arm?"

Sirius glanced at the door, and frowned "Too much magic and no rest; also a nasty burn which the crazy boy never gave time to heal - it was swelled up to twice the normal size and he kept casting - took two weeks after he stopped to get to where it is now."

Hermione had seen Harry fly and exercise, so she knew he could happily ignore his own safety and comfort, but… honestly, that sounded extreme even for Harry. "Just what was he doing that drove him to keep going like that?"

Sirius nervously glanced around the room, "Uh - can't tell you, uh - non disclosure agreement and all. Shouldn't have said this much."

Sirius stopped talking, and during the awkward silence nervously glanced around the room, as if he expected dementors to attack at any moment. A feeling of unease settled in Hermione's stomach, whatever Harry had done over the summer was far worse than she'd thought. Sirius' nervousness was contagious, and as they slowly sipped their tea her anxiety intensified. To distract herself Hermione desperately looked for a topic of conversation: "Awful, really awful what that murderer did - were you two worried he might attack you?"

Sirius startled and gave her a wide eyed stare "No - no. I mean - yes it was absolutely frightening. Awful what he did. Was pretty sure Harry and me could take care of ourselves though, and we were out of the way. So - no worries," Sirius smiled with his teeth, "how about you?"

There was a false note to how Sirius spoke. When he finished Harry stumbled into the kitchen, bleary eyed from his nap, but with a smile. "Hullo Mione."

Hermione stared at him as a broad smile pulled across her face, and then she jumped up and wrapped Harry in a tight hug. After a moment he responded with his own hug. He was alright and alive. Nothing had happened to him. As she held Harry she noticed Sirius quickly sneak past them.

"Harry James Potter, don't ever scare me like that again. People were dying everywhere and I couldn't talk to you. I thought, I thought for those two days when you didn't respond that you were maybe - well that you were maybe one of those dead bodies, stuffed in a building that hadn't yet been searched. Merlin I was so scared. I thought your internship was maybe the Department of Mysteries, and they'd been attacked so badly."

With the emotional release of seeing Harry again Hermione started to cry while still smiling broadly, as she shook him. Harry looked at her with a happy smile and rubbed her back while murmuring "I'm okay, I'm sorry - I won't do that again. Mione, I really am fine - not hurt at all."

That last comment didn't help - Hermione pulled back, "Sirius told me you used too much magic and didn't treat a burn - how could you be so stupid? I know you want to find your limits, but even you should care that you could destroy your arm, or cause permanent damage - or don't you care that using too much magic isn't good for you - especially at our age - who were the awful people who made you?"

Harry smiled wider, "Don't worry, I've learned my lesson, I won't push so hard next time."

Hermione looked Harry over once again, and with a superior tone sniffed "Hmph, see that you don't."

They sat down around the light colored kitchen table and Dobby popped in to give Harry a cup of tea and replace Hermione's. Despite how tired and ill he seemed Harry looked happy. He'd been stressed and busy, working on things he could not talk about related to his internship for the last three months of the school year. And when he popped out of the library or the come-and-go-room, to talk or hang out, he was tightly wound and he never fully relaxed. Right now Harry looked looser than she'd ever seen him, slouched in his chair, smiling while swishing the tea around his cup, and slowly sipping.

"Fraid I can't tell you much about my summer - it was terribly busy, as you've gathered, but a lot of fun and very satisfying - how were you?"

This went beyond Luna's theory that Harry didn't want to talk about it with her; it was as though Harry had been completely unaffected by the horror that rolled through the Wizarding World - if Hermione met an acquaintance in Diagon Alley the conversation inevitably would include, 'Oh where were you when you heard - do you think the aurors will catch him? No I don't either.' When Hermione met Daphne Greengrass after she'd returned from the hidden location her family had fled to Daphne said, "I'm still so scared; I haven't been able to sleep well for weeks because every creak makes me think he is about it to break in and kill us."

Hermione's mouth fell open as she incredulously looked at her nonchalant friend, "Well a dark lord decided to destroy the government and killed more than a hundred people. But otherwise it was lots of fun."

Harry straightened and put down his tea, "Yes, but - hmmm, I suppose I can see how it would be terribly frightening - but really," Harry's face twisted into a smirk, "They are calling him a new dark lord in the_ Prophet_?"

"What?" Hermione's mouth hung open again, she leaned forward across the table, "You can't possibly have ignored all of the coverage - how could you have been that busy?"

"Well after the - work load - lightened I didn't want to know what they were saying - The _Prophet_'s rubbish anyways. But a dark lord, really?"

Harry's attitude angered Hermione - how could he find _this_ amusing. People were dead, the world would never be the same, and he thought it was funny that the _Daily Prophet_ called the murderer a dark lord. "Well," Hermione slapped her hands on the table, "what would you call someone who murders a hundred people and destroys the government?"

Harry shrugged and slouched back into his chair before he sipped his tea again, "I don't know, always thought 'dark lord' implied a desire to rule something, clearly he isn't trying to take over, unless…" Harry's mouth twisted into a mischievous smile, "It was Dumbledore."

"I never would have believed it of you - that you would treat this like a joke. It is awful and horrible, and so many innocent people were killed - and now that you're back from wherever you disappeared to maybe he'll come after you and Sirius, and - and - " Hermione felt herself start to cry again.

Harry set his cup down again and leaned forward to touch her elbow - "Sorry Hermione, it is serious. And - but you have nothing to worry about, me and Sirius don't fit the pattern anyways and -"

"What do you mean - you are both prominent and politically involved - and Sirius was in Azkaban and had been accused of working with You-Know-Who."

Harry opened his mouth, and then closed it, and with his head tilted he slowly asked "Is that how the _Daily Prophet_ thinks targets are chosen, rich and politically involved?"

"Well, how do you think he chose his targets?"

Harry frowned at the table, then he looked her in the eye with a hard glint that caused Hermione's anxiety to surge again,"I thought the pattern was obvious."

Harry stopped and gave Hermione a look that said she should be able to figure it out herself. She had spent the summer reading newspaper reports, and thinking about ways the aurors might be able to catch him, and thinking about ways someone, ways _she_, might defend herself if attacked - and Hermione had attended several funerals and memorial services for relatives of classmates. And she had talked to friends as everyone tried to comfort each other. But despite her conversation with Luna she'd never thought about what the murderer wanted to accomplish.

The killer was evil and that was enough. Many of the dead were criminals who'd worked with You-Know-Who, but not everyone had any connection: Mafalda Hopkirk worked in the ministry department tracking underage magic use, Minister Fudge had been an auror who fought You-Know-Who, and the aurors he killed were brave civil servants protecting everyone.

However, Hermione couldn't think of any muggleborns who had died. Which was statistically improbable. But she wasn't sure, it wasn't like she could tell from a name in a list if the dead wizard had magical or muggle parents. Politically prominent and well connected wizards had been the main targets (along with criminals), which excluded most muggleborns - but what connected them politically? It probably was something about You-Know-Who since he'd killed everyone connected with the old dark lord.

Hermione remembered how Dolores Umbridge had forced Professor Lupin to leave Hogwarts. Everyone who had vocally supported her had been killed. Had he murdered all of the politically prominent people who opposed creature and muggleborn rights? And was it _only_ people who opposed creature and muggleborn rights? Hermione had an excellent memory and she had read the _Daily Prophet_ religiously since she came to Hogwarts. She spent several minutes trying to remember what she had seen about each name. The pattern held; every time she'd seen the name of someone who was killed, they had been in favor of protecting traditional rights for pureblood wizards or imposing tighter controls on magical creatures. Some magical creatures had been killed, but Hermione was fairly sure they all had connections to You-Know-Who like Fenrir Greyback.

"It doesn't make any sense," Hermione looked at Harry, "Why would an evil person want to stop discrimination?"

Harry's face had an odd expression, like he'd tasted something weird and couldn't decide if he liked it or not. Eventually he shrugged "well at least you can see the pattern."

Hermione realized something horrible - it was in his body language, his good mood, and what he said "You - you _approve_ of what happened. You think it was a good thing that all those people were killed - that Mr. Weasley was splattered with - with blood, and still has nightmares, that the Minister was killed, that Draco doesn't have a father anymore - you approve of all of this because you didn't like the politics of the people who were _murdered_."

Harry replied with the vicious tone she'd only heard before when he talked about Dumbledore, "sometimes Hermione, sometimes people deserve to be murdered, and sometimes there needs to be a murderer. And sometimes," Harry leaned forward and almost shouted, "sometimes it is _good_ when people die!"

Harry settled back into his chair, and took a deep breath to force himself to release his anger. During the silence that followed Harry grabbed his tea, and the red rash on his hand and forearm caught Hermione's eye again, and with a sickening realization she _knew_. Suddenly everything made sense. _Harry _was the killer. Harry must have seen it in her eyes because he tensed, and then relaxed with a sad expression that looked old. "No! No, it can't be you" Hermione shrieked.

Harry silently watched her with what she knew was a pitying expression.

"How could you? _Why_?" Hermione was too shocked to do anything stare at Harry as he replied.

With a deep breath Harry began, "I suppose I should explain - I suppose I want you to know - I'd have acted differently if I didn't. And you wanted to know why I was so weird." Harry's face twisted into a humorless smile, "This will sound rather unbelievable, just how it happened is extremely confusing - I never properly understood and gave up trying years ago - I went through something like time travel, but completely different from what a time turner does. I suppose this is my second life. I lived as Harry Potter once before until I was 24. I went to Hogwarts with you and Ron and Neville and everyone; except it wasn't you but a different you. And almost everyone was killed in the war."

A grief-stricken look flashed over Harry's face as he looked down at the table, but he shook away the feeling and continued, "Anyways, I got revenge, and then I went to Africa as a mercenary. Eventually I became rather arrogant; I had all three of the deathly hallows which made it devilishly hard to kill me, even indirectly, which is how those with the deathstick usually die. So I stopped being careful. Actually, I think I wanted to die. I walked right into an ambush, but instead of trying to kill me this group of African shamans tricked me into stepping into a ritual circle; there was a burst of magic, and suddenly I'm living the day I learned I was wizard and got my first wand again. Also, I had the absolute worst headache of my life."

Harry stared at the residue in the bottom of his tea cup, "Right confusing it was, finding myself eleven again, with everyone still alive, except, not really alive. You aren't her you know, you were the same person she had been when she was eleven, but that didn't make you _her_." Harry continued with a depressed frown, "she was still dead."

Harry didn't speak for a moment, then he forced himself to continue, "Anyways when I was sorted into Slytherin - first time round I was Gryffindor you know - I decided it was sign that I probably shouldn't interact with the old gang. I wasn't the same person at all and probably not the sort who should be near kids."

Harry looked contemplative as he stared past Hermione at a blank spot on the wall - Hermione didn't think to interrupt. She didn't doubt the story at all; it all fit, and it answered the questions she'd always had about him. Harry continued with a nostalgic voice, "you were so lonely, and so young, and - you looked so unhappy, I'd kept an eye on you, and you cried on your birthday. I knew then I needed to do something…" Harry trailed off, "Anyways you've lived the rest."

He straightened and his hard look returned, "As for 'why', In that first life they brought Voldemort back, and they won. All of you were dead. Neville, Luna, Ginny, Fred and George, Molly, McGonagall and Snape - all of you died in that battle. And then those people proceeded to kill every muggleborn left in Britain, and every muggleborn child, and their families. So I killed them all. And when I found myself here I knew immediately I'd kill them all again; they deserved to die, and I wasn't going to wait for it to be revenge. And that is what I am," Harry flung his arms out and gestured at himself, "a killer."

Hermione sat pale and shaking, there was no way she could pretend it wasn't true. He'd boldy, _proudly_ proclaimed himself the murderer. She was in a room with the worst murderer since You-Know-Who. He'd was a monster.

When Harry leaned forward a bit Hermione startled back, jumping up and knocking her chair over; she was suddenly scared of the boy - monster - who'd been her best friend. She clutched her wand tightly. Harry looked at her with a frown, "Hermione, I'm so sorry, I was only thinking of myself when I told you - I hadn't thought how it would hurt you. I - I shouldn't have told you -"

He got up, and Hermione stumbled against the wall and waved her wand at Harry "Stay away, don't hurt me - don't!" Harry backed away.

Hermione stood there, pressed against the wall, her hand shaking as she kept her wand pointed at Harry. The hair was the same, it was still black and messy and still fell over his forehead, the famous scar was still there and Harry wore a Chudley Cannons T-shirt she'd seen him wear a dozen times. But everything was different. Like a stranger wore the body of her best friend; for an instant Hermione wondered if it might be someone else polyjuiced to look like Harry. Sadly, that didn't make sense.

After several minutes Harry took a deep breath, "Alright, unless you want me to obliviate you, I'm going to need a binding vow to prevent you from telling anyone. It won't be a dangerous spell; I'm sure you can find a way to give Dumbledore enough hints to figure it out. Don't. I hate him. You know I do. Unfortunately he isn't evil and I can't kill someone just because he is a horrible leader. But if he comes for me…" Harry trailed off with a vicious smile, "So think before you try to tell him."

Hermione put her wand away, it was pointless, even without holding his wand she knew how good Harry's wandless magic was. Hermione felt tears stream down her face as she said, "You're a monster. You were right, people like you shouldn't be near children."

Harry had a haunted look as he replied, "I suppose you are right; you always are."

* * *

_I hoped you enjoyed reading; did you know that you aren't supposed to italicize 'the' in a newspaper title? It should be 'the _Daily Prophet_' not '_The Daily Prophet_'. Things you learn writing fan fiction. Also my current guess is that it will be a bit over 40k words, not 30k. Things do grow, when I published chapter one I hadn't yet realized I needed a chapter between the first year chapter and this. So it could have been an even more abrupt time jump. Review if you think Hermione should have behaved differently when she found out. Review if you think she behaved exactly the way she should._


	6. Chapter 6

_JK Rowling owns Harry Potter_

* * *

Hermione stumbled out of 12 Grimmauld Place, and as the door closed she nearly threw up. Harry was a murderer. She leaned against the door and tried to suppress the nausea. It was a beautiful day: the birds were chirping, the sun was warm and Harry was a murderer.

She didn't want to go home. Her parents would ask why she was back so soon, and she couldn't face that. Instead Hermione walked to a nearby park where they'd spent time over the years. She found a secluded spot near the duck pond and cried so hard she couldn't breathe. This felt worse than anything she'd ever thought could happen. It felt worse than when she was scared Harry had died. _Her_ Harry had never existed; the boy she'd thought she loved had always been a twisted monster.

Hermione spent the next week intermittently crying in bed, unable to face the idea of moving. She couldn't even read. Her love of books had become associated with Harry and the things they'd read together. Thinking about Harry made the hollow feeling worse, but she couldn't stop herself. Hermione spent hours ranting at an imaginary Harry. She found the perfect arguments to convince him the killing had been wrong. But, her rants always stopped there. Harry _couldn't_ do anything, even if she convinced him he'd been wrong, he would always be a murderer.

Other times Hermione raged at Harry: how _dare _he use his skills this way. She'd get so angry her hands shook and she couldn't walk straight. But it was still suffused with a sick feeling of disappointment and a wish the nightmare had never happened. To distract herself without leaving home she watched Doctor Who reruns and inane daytime talk shows. At night she had nightmares where Harry killed Dumbledore in front of her. After the second one she knew she shouldn't tell Dumbledore. Harry was a monster; if she told he would kill more people, and it would be her fault.

The week before Hogwarts started seemed to last forever, but eventually Hermione was on the train to Hogwarts. Everyone gathered in a compartment to talk about why Harry was avoiding them. Daphne's irritation was clear despite her cultured drawl, "He didn't even _try_ to come up with a good lie when he visited, 'I'm worried this new dark lord will target me so I should stay away to keep you all safe'. What rot. Harry knows _perfectly_ well the killer has that spasmy spell to knock people out. If he didn't want to just say 'I can't tell you' he could have given me the courtesy of finding a believable lie."

Neville and Ernie looked shocked, "you mean Harry _isn't _worried about us getting hurt?" Neville asked from where he sat next to the door with his arm around Ginny's shoulders.

Susan gave a humourless laugh, "he probably realized after talking to you," Susan gestured at Daphne, "just how stupid that story sounded; he told me it would be best if he avoided us and that he shouldn't say more. You should give him some slack Daph, he looked completely awful when I saw him."

Ginny looked around, "But why would Harry want to avoid us" she asked in a confused voice. Ginny was happily attached to Neville, but her hero worship had never disappeared.

Hermione snorted, and Luna looked up from the corner at Hermione, and Hermione thought there was a flash of anger in Luna's eyes before she returned to staring at her hands.

After a moment of quiet Daphne said, "Hermione knows what is going on, but isn't going to tell us. Anyways, while I wish he had come up with a better lie, I trust Harry to have a good reason for not telling us and won't try figure it out."

Susan glanced at Hermione and nodded, "I don't want to know if my guess is right."

* * *

Hermione watched Harry obsessively in class, barely able to concentrate when he was in the room. Harry's wand was hypnotic. She saw it and automatically thought about the dozens of people it had killed. It was like when Hermione's muggle class visited a castle, and she looked at the killing area in front of a gatehouse and knew human beings like her had died _right there_.

Harry tried to isolate himself. After their first potions class Neville cornered him, "I know you have a good reason for what you are doing, but Daphne and Susan said you aren't scared we'll be attacked and - can't we help you?"

"I'm sorry," Harry glanced quickly at Hermione and continued with a stiff face, "I _am _protecting you."

Neville looked Harry directly in the eye, "What happened? You know we'll support you no matter what. And, we need you, you've taught me so much; I wouldn't be half the wizard I am without you."

Harry looked uncomfortable, "I really can't tell you, and," Harry clapped Neville on the back, "You don't need me. You've always had it in you to be great, and I'm proud to have been your friend, but you can stand on your own. You always could, and I don't know if I ever helped you at all."

Hermione saw the same look she'd seen on Harry's face when she called him a monster and something twisted in her that felt like sympathy for Harry. She ruthlessly suppressed it.

Harry caught Neville's eye, "Do you trust me?" Neville nodded, then Harry continued "then trust me that we should go our separate ways."

Neville listened; Luna didn't. When Harry explained it was best she stay away, she listened with her head tilted and a frown, and when Harry finished she shook her head and said, "You've been infested by wrackspurts Harry: they make your brain go all fuzzy. You should try to get rid of them, it's a serious infestation." Every morning Luna walked from the Ravenclaw table to sit next to Harry. He didn't talk to her and she didn't try to make him. Instead Luna silently kept Harry company. However, after a few days he stopped asking her to avoid him and smiled when Luna sat down.

After three weeks of watching Luna join Harry, Hermione felt she needed to do something. So when they met to work on their muggle curriculum Hermione tried to explain, "I don't think it's good for you to be near Harry, he -" Hermione frowned as she tried to think how to put it so she wouldn't be stopped by the vow, and so she could convince Luna that Harry was a dangerous and bad person without hinting at what he'd actually done.

Luna spoke during Hermione's pause. She slapped her pen onto the blue precalculus textbook and said bitterly, "I think he helped the house elves kill their masters, and you found out, and you told him he was evil and Harry believed you." Luna glared accusingly at Hermione.

That was closer than she'd expected, Hermione responded in a noncommittal voice, "the house elves? I hadn't seen that in the Quibbler."

"Daddy doesn't want to print anything he can't prove about the murders, and," Luna became more animated as she continued, "what some wizards do to their house elves is simply _horrible_. If they thought the way to stop the abuse was - was by killing their masters we aren't going to turn them in."

Somehow the conversation hadn't gone where Hermione had expected; Hermione wouldn't turn in abused house elves either. She frowned, "Why does your father think it was house elves?"

"Well," Luna's face lit up, despite the subject matter, like it always did when she explained her father's theories, "Daddy noticed how the killer is always polyjuiced, house elves would have to become a wizard to use a wand, so that would explain why. And house elves would be able to easily get hairs from different people; isn't it also poetic justice to have the master kill the master? Most importantly, lots of people fled to houses that were unplottable, or under strong wards, and the killer knew where they went to and was able to get right through. Well house elves are always allowed through wards - nobody thinks of them as a threat - and they always know where their families are."

Hermione bit her lip as she thought through the scenario, Luna added, "I think Dobby asked Harry - you know, Dobby probably organized the whole house elf rebellion - well he had Harry figure out something with runes to break the bonds connecting the house elves to their wizards so they could act, and that was what he really did all summer."

Then Luna pointed at Hermione, "You told him he was horrible for helping them kill their awful masters, and he believes you when you tell him things. But he's not. Harry isn't evil or bad, and nothing you say will ever convince me. I know he was your first real friend, but without him - I've told you that I sometimes see things that are likely to happen, and I thought I saw - I was _sure_ that when I got to Hogwarts I'd be hated and everyone in my house would steal my things and make fun of me, and everyone would call me Loony Lovegood, and I would be so lonely and I wouldn't have any friends. And when I met Harry that vision disappeared. He's always protected me, my first night at Hogwarts started like I always knew it would; Anthony Goldstein had already called me 'Loony' when Harry walked up to the table and sat down next to me."

There was a dreamy look in Luna's eyes, "I've told you before but you never believed Harry could be terrifying. The other students didn't like you, but they never bullied you - you're always so confident and capable - you are a bit scary yourself. You never needed him to protect you. I'm not like that. Harry sat down and put his arm around my shoulders, and said 'this is my friend Luna Lovegood, you all _will_ be very nice to her', he stared at Anthony, and Anthony flinched. They all did, and nobody ever made fun of me. He didn't need to do anything he just looked at them and they knew they'd regret it."

Luna smiled as she finished. Hermione had heard versions of the story before, but only now did she truly believe he'd terrified a table of students, many older than him, with a glare. Luna continued in a passionate voice that completely lacked her usual airiness, "Harry always protected me, and I will never leave him alone. Not when he's lonely. You want to tell me I'm wrong, that it's something worse Harry did, perhaps it was Harry, not Dobby, who organized the elves. I don't care." Luna repeated herself emphasizing each word, "I. Don't. Care. You have these weird muggle ideas and think violating some abstract principle can make someone bad, but _I don't care_. I will always be Harry's friend no matter what he did or how wrong you think it is. So don't try."

There was a long silence as Luna breathed heavily and slowly calmed down. She kept glancing at Hermione. Hermione felt terribly sad as she thought about Luna's story and she didn't understand why, after a long silence Hermione burst out, "I can't. Oh - I wish I could, but - but if I'm friends with him it means I _approve_ of how all those people died. And I can't. I just can't." There was another long silence as Hermione frowned at the papers in front of her. She felt miserable. Eventually Hermione added, "he does need somebody, and-" Hermione didn't know what she wanted to say and instead grabbed their blue textbook, "Come on, these problems won't solve themselves."

Hermione felt jealous of Luna: Harry didn't talk to her, but he needed someone near him, and he was glad Luna was there. And Hermione wished it could be her, that she could simply think "Harry protects me, therefore I'll always support him." But Harry killed people. Lots and lots of people. It didn't matter that they were bad people, he was still a murderer. What Harry did was wrong and no amount of wishing she didn't care would change that. She did care. She always cared, and she would always do what she believed was right no matter how much it hurt.

Hermione didn't notice, but after the conversation with Luna her anger against Harry was gone. Now she just wished she could like him again. He was evil, and Hermione couldn't choose to see that differently, but he was also Harry. And despite her jealousy Hermione felt better when she watched Luna sit next to him. At least Harry wasn't completely alone.

* * *

Time passed and as Christmas came closer Hermione felt increasingly sympathetic to Harry. He wasn't happy - he didn't act depressed, but even with Luna he was lonely, and she'd catch him watching them with an expressionless face during meals. Hermione overheard portraits talk about how Harry regularly drank with the Bloody Baron. Often he showed up for breakfast pale and lethargic, with huge bags under his eyes. Harry's nightmares clearly were more frequent, and Luna didn't know how to get him to relax.

Hermione had thought Harry's description of his previous life was a cautionary tale - you shouldn't let hate rule you, no matter what. But now Hermione imagined what it would be like, having all of your friends killed, and suddenly being alone. Her throat tightened and she cried when she imagined how she would feel if Luna and Neville and Ginny and both of the twins, and Sirius and Molly all died. She remembered the time she found Harry drunk her first year - on what must be the anniversary of when their group had been killed in his first universe - and how Harry told her he'd been so lonely. And how happy he'd been that she was there.

And she was forcing Harry to be alone again. Hermione was sure that what she had said, 'people like you shouldn't be near children,' was what convinced Harry to avoid everyone. Hermione had nightmares where she saw Harry's face at that moment and her dream self desperately begged him not to listen to her but he couldn't hear. The dream always ended with Harry saying, "you're right, you always are." Dumbledore had said "Pity those who live without love." And now Harry was without those who loved him.

Her mind constantly circled back to the question: Was it right to leave Harry alone? If they could show him he was still loved, that people did care for him, and that he had been good for them when they were children, perhaps the twisted and wrong parts of him would slowly heal? But Hermione knew she'd been there for him, his friend for years, and it hadn't fixed him. He still chose to kill. And the idea that if she acted like a friend it meant she approved also never left her.

On Christmas Day Hermione finally listened to her doubts. Harry sent her a gift, it was an old book she'd been interested in for the end of year History of Magic project last year, but the library didn't have a copy, and none of the bookstores she normally used did either. Harry included a note: "My contact found this in October; it would be a waste if you weren't able to read it".

Hermione stared at the present, she'd opened it alone with just her parents. Today was the first time she wouldn't see Harry and Sirius on Christmas day. And she missed Harry, missed seeing him, missed talking to him and missed laughing with him. Hermione had other friends but nobody else was Harry.

Her mother came into the room and found Hermione on the couch sobbing while she clutched Crookshanks and the book. Both gifts from Harry. Mum rarely showed physical affection, but this time she gave Hermione a strong hug and let her cry into her shirt.

Eventually Hermione quieted, and her mother asked, "I haven't wanted to pry, but could you tell me what happened between you and Harry?"

"He did something awful, really, really awful. It was wrong. I can't - I can't be friends with someone who would do something like _that_."

"Oh, honey, what was it?"

"I - I can't tell you," Hermione started to cry again, "but it was…." Hermione couldn't find words that would convey the right emotion, so she stopped speaking, with tears rolling down her cheeks.

"You still care for him though, don't you?" Mum looked at Hermione's teary face and waited for her daughter to nod.

Mum had a sympathetic look as she stroked Hermione's hair, "Nobody is perfect - as you grow up you learn people aren't always what you expect them to be, and you need to decide if you can still accept them once you see their flaws. Just because you are someone's friend doesn't mean you always think they are right."

After a few more minutes of hugging Hermione was left alone to think again. She remembered the night Harry was drunk (an eleven year old drunk - she should have known something was seriously wrong with him) when he told her how lonely he had been. And she remembered how lonely he'd been during the term.

He isolated himself because she told him to. Hermione knew that he'd done awful things to himself before - she remembered the story Harry told her about his earlier life, how he'd wanted to die. Was Harry going to do that again? Or would he become a hermit and never talk to anyone, and sit alone reading and until he died in a flying accident. Hermione had a flash of terror - she'd never be able to live with herself if she drove Harry to kill himself.

She'd had doubts since her conversation with Luna, but for the first time Hermione felt truly uncertain. It no longer seemed _right_ to ignore Harry. What mother said was true: nobody was perfect; being friends didn't mean you approved of everything they did. Dumbledore would give Harry a chance to come back to the light. And if Harry was isolated he'd never see a reason to change. Things like friendship and love were important, and Harry had become twisted when he'd lost his friends the first time.

A thrill of excitement went through Hermione as she decided the _right_ thing was to fix Harry through friendship. It was like what Dumbledore had talked about during the closing feast. With that decision Hermione felt like she was floating as the pain that had been always present for the last four months dissolved.

* * *

Hermione was more nervous than she'd ever felt when she found Harry on the train; she sat next to him with a dry mouth and a pounding heart and gave a disjointed description of the book Harry had given her for Christmas, not looking at her friend for several minutes, "It gave a completely different perspective on Matilda the Strange - she always seemed like a inexplicable figure - but it now makes sense why she wanted to fool muggles into thinking Stonehenge had been there forever. Her childhood made her think it would be funny. And the story at the end with Maxwell the Oddest establishing an inn for muggles on pilgrimage near the location reveals how wizarding and muggle economies were more closely intertwined before the Statute of Secrecy - and"

Hermione took a deep breath and finally glanced at Harry - she stuttered to a stop at his confused look. Hermione started again, this time looking at Harry, "Thank you for the book, I'm honestly thrilled to have been able to read it." As she ended Hermione gave Harry a bright, nervous smile.

Harry frowned, "Why are you here?" Hermione's stomach sank as Harry started to speak in a cautious tone, "I thought -"

"I was wrong." Hermione interrupted with a squeaky voice, "You shouldn't be alone - it just isn't right. And you were, you were wonderful for us growing up, and even if we don't need you we all want you."

Harry sat back against the green cushions frowned at the floor of the cabin. As his frown deepened Hermione had a sinking feeling; for a terrifying second she thought she'd broken something precious that couldn't be fixed. Harry turned to her with a stiff look but before he could speak Hermione burst out, "By Merlin's beard, don't be stupid. Of course you were good for us!"

Hermione's outburst startled Harry, who blinked and frowned again while looking at her. She caught his eyes and tried to silently plead with him to forget what she'd said about staying away from them and accept that she wanted to be friends again. Finally after he spent a long moment Harry's mouth twisted into a half smile, "I suppose you're right" his mouth twisted further, "you always are."

Something warm bloomed in Hermione's chest when after another long silence Harry gave her a genuine smile and said, "Come on, lets find where everyone else is."

Nobody directly asked Harry why he'd changed his mind or what was different. Though Daphne wanted to know, "Did you finally read the old newspaper reports and discover that the Summer Dark Lord is can kill you without hurting anyone nearby if he wants to?"

Harry gave her a sheepish grin while rubbing the back of his head, "Pretty much, I'm sure what I said sounded like a blatantly obvious lie" Harry smirked at Daphne, "really though I just hadn't seen the newspaper over the summer."

Hermione and Luna talked about Harry's return to the group a month into the spring session. They were in a carriage going to a Hogsmeade; Harry wasn't there because he had gone to London to present a paper on runes, and Neville and Ginny were on a date. Luna approached the topic cautiously, "I'm very happy that we are all… together again; it is much nicer than last semester."

Luna looked sideways at Hermione who frowned at her friend. She knew what Luna was really asking. "Of course you want to know why I changed my mind? " Hermione paused, and her stomach clenched as they bounced along the road, and she remembered how she'd felt on Christmas day. With tears in her voice she rushed out "I couldn't keep doing it. It wasn't right to see him lonely like that. And I missed talking to him. And its not his fault that he became what he is, something horrible happened that twisted him into somebody who could - do what he did - and maybe he'll become better if I'm near him." Hermione stopped again.

"So you still think he's a bad person" Luna asked softly as she watched the thestrals that were invisible to Hermione.

Hermione burst out, "Yes - sometimes I feel guilty and selfish that I'm even talking to Harry, as though it means I approve of what he did, almost like I participated. But I don't, being friends doesn't mean that I approve. Can't you be friends with someone without approving of them? And I can't, I just can't watch him be unhappy. And he's been so lonely before, which is why he became -" Hermione stopped, "Honestly, I try not to think about it. We never talk about it. I don't think we ever will. It wouldn't do any good if we tried."

Luna looked at Hermione as the carriage stopped and they got out, "It probably can't be better. People see the world differently you know; you see it through your beliefs and you can't really choose what you believe." Luna then smiled brightly at Hermione as they walked towards the stand the twins had set up to sell pranking supplies, "I'm glad you and Harry are talking now. Something was wrong with the universe when you two were apart."

* * *

Things weren't the same. Harry and Hermione avoided many topics. Also her life had revolved around him before: the idea of emotionally relying on Harry again terrified her. Besides, Hermione never forget Harry was a monster.

Hermione's infatuation was gone. Harry had never been the perfect person she'd imagined that she was in love with. Suddenly Hermione was aware the other boys around her had grown up nicely and were quite fanciable. When Ginny told her Ron had a crush on her, Hermione noticed him for the first time. He was really tall and a bit awkward - but in a cute way. And since Oliver Wood had graduated he'd been the star of the quidditch team, with the confidence and muscles that came from sports. Also, Hermione never consciously thought it, but she was aware Harry had always been weird about Ron. Dating him felt almost like getting revenge on Harry for a grudge she couldn't admit she had. On Valentine's Day Ron and Hermione went to Madame Puddifoot's and became a couple and Hermione got her first kiss from a boy.

Two months later in the Room of Requirements Hermione ranted to an amused Luna, "How was I ever so _stupid_ as to think dating Ronald Weasley was a good idea? I mean, obviously, we have nothing in common: he is a mediocre student who can't be bothered, he thinks women should be like his mum and stay at home and bake cookies while anxiously staring at that bloody clock waiting for her dear husband to come home." Hermione paused as she processed what she had just said. She then waved her hands and backtracked, "not that there is anything wrong with Molly, I love Molly, I just don't want to _be_ Molly. And, Ron expects everyone to care what happens to the Chudley Cannons. I bloody well _don't_."

Luna laughed as Hermione wound down and settled onto the blue and silver sofa; they'd made the room look like a smaller version of the Ravenclaw common room for Hermione's pity party. Ron spent too much time in the Gryffindor common room for it to be an option. Luna scooted over and gave Hermione a hug, "do you feel better now that you've let that out?"

Hermione frowned at her friend, annoyed by her cheeriness, "You knew this would be a disaster - and so did Harry; I remember how he looked when I told him how I felt after Valentines. He didn't say it, but I could tell he thought it was hilarious." Hermione grabbed one of Dobby's fruit pastries - it sat next to a gallon bucket of ice cream, Dobby had taken her demand for lots of ice cream a bit too seriously - and plaintively asked, "why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, you didn't want to listen, besides it ended well, and you've learned an important lesson," Luna smirked.

"Yes and I'm sure it was terribly amusing for you to watch; you don't need to tell me what Harry was thinking, he doesn't want to make my choices for me, or some rot of that sort. Of course he thought Ron was a silly boyfriend, but it wasn't his place to tell me."

Luna shrugged still clearly amused, and took a bite from her bowl of ice cream, "oooh this is really good, I think Dobby bought it from Fortescue's, try some."

Hermione decided she'd ask Luna and Harry what they thought before she dated anyone else. Harry was useless though. He _actually_ said, "Hermione, It's not my place to tell you what choices to make - but I will always support you." During Hermione's last year she went steady with Ernie MacMillan, but as a pureblood he thought the ideal time for a wedding was the summer after graduation from Hogwarts. Hermione disagreed. Fortunately the bad feelings didn't last very long, and a few months later Susan and Ernie started dating.

While she had plenty of job options, as a child Hermione wanted to go to Oxford - her parents had met during there, and the campus was beautiful. Early during her last year at Hogwarts Hermione learned about a new Ministry of Magic program that made it easier for Hogwarts graduates to go to muggle universities. Between the program and the muggle course Harry had her and Luna take it was possible for her to attend Oxford. When Hermione found out she jumped on the opportunity.

* * *

_Thank you for reading. Also isn't Luna awesome?_


	7. Chapter 7

_Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling_

* * *

Daphne smirked at Hermione, "are you _really_ not bothered that Susan married your old flame?" Susan and Ernie MacMillan's wedding had been the previous day and the rest of the girls had gathered at Ginny and Neville's house to play with the baby and talk.

Hermione laughed from where she sat on the floor, "remember, I dumped him. I still think the idea of marrying when you're 18 is weird."

Ginny replied ,"Well, _I'm_ glad _I _got married right after Hogwarts. I couldn't imagine living without Neville, and it was so romantic to start my life with him immediately after I finished school - and that year after you all graduated and it was just me and Luna, with no Neville was so lonely. I lived for the weekends when I could see him. Besides," she continued as she bounced the baby on her knee, "I wouldn't have little Frankie if we hadn't married right then."

"I didn't say it was a bad idea for everyone," Hermione replied a bit testily, they'd had this conversation before, "anyways, it turned out for the best, Susan and Ernie are much better together than we ever were."

Everyone nodded, Susan and Ernie _were_ a very cute couple.

Daphne's family was very rich, and they'd been grooming her so she could eventually take over, and as a result she'd spent most of the three years since graduation out of the country. "I've been gone so long," she sighed, "my parents made me visit at least twenty countries to get know our suppliers. I wasn't even here when Frankie was born. How is everyone?"

Ginny grinned, "Hermione's working at a bookstore."

Everyone laughed as Hermione responded with a rueful smile, "it _does_ sound like something I would do. Honestly, I work there because the Oxfam bookshops are raising money to bring food to people in countries with famines and — " Hermione took a deep breath, and her eyes lit up, "I'm a student, I don't have much money, but _everyone_ should do something to help desperately poor people who don't have enough to eat. Honestly, it's a matter of basic human decency, and there is something wrong with you if you don't _act _when confronted with how awful their situation is. So," Hermione looked directly at Daphne, "what will _you_ do?"

Luna and Ginny smirked at Daphne's open-mouthed expression. They'd heard Hermione rant about her current passion several times already. After a moment Daphne laughed, "just tell me who I'm supposed to write a check to and I will. Still, I _know_ you've dreamed of working in a bookshop or library, is it what you hoped it would be?"

Hermione grinned, "it _is_ fun. It's a used bookshop and I sort the recently donated books and some are really old and really wonderful; I once found a copy of _The Lord of the Rings_ from the sixties, and I've seen so many different editions of Shakespeare." Hermione's dreamy smile was briefly replaced by a grimace, "dealing with customers can be annoying, not always, but some people are just unpleasant. And some things, like cleaning bathrooms, aren't much fun. Still, despite those little things, I love the job."

Daphne nodded as she took Frankie from Ginny; it was her turn to hold the baby. "I've occasionally dealt with annoying customers, it is frustrating. How is Harry doing?"

Ginny jumped in, "Harry has this adorable one bedroom in the back of Diagon Alley, it's small and cramped and very picturesque — and he let us decorate it, though he insisted on a weird mix of Slytherin and Gryffindor colors."

"I'm sure Luna likes it,"

Luna smiled widely, "it was my idea, I thought it would be appropriate since he likes Gryffindor so much."

Daphne scowled; Harry might not like Slytherin, but _she_ did, "I know Harry is working for that warding firm, and making lots of money, is he enjoying it?"

Ginny replied, "Neville and I talked with him about it when he worked on the wards at Grandmum's house, he - well he's _very _passionate about, uh 'multi-layered alarm based defensive schemes.'"

Everyone laughed as Ginny wrinkled her nose and added "Nevvy was more interested in the details than I was."

"Any chance he's finally found someone?"

Ginny replied to Daphne, "you know Harry, everyone but Hermione is kept at arms length. I think it's all of those secrets, he'd never tell a girl, and he can't possibly consider marrying someone who doesn't already know. I keep trying to get Neville or the twins to talk to him during their boy's nights, but they all think it would be a bad idea."

Daphne nodded, unsurprised, "Do we still meet on Sunday mornings?"

Luna stopped making silly faces at the baby to reply, "yes, and Hermione and Harry always go to the the Department of Mysteries lecture series my boss organizes; we usually have dinner afterwards. Also, Hermione and Harry have dinner every Monday evening. Oh, and we have Quidditch weekends sometimes – though Hermione usually gives those the skip."

Daphne handed the baby onto Luna, who'd been playfully grabbing for him for the past minute, "I'm with Hermione, I never could understand why you all like that sport. The rules don't even make sense. So, Hermione, now that its been three years, are you still glad you turned down the job with the DoM to go to a muggle university?"

"It's been wonderful – my classes are so informative, everyone is focused on studying, and the conversations can be _so_ interesting. The campus is beautiful, all giant green spaces and centuries-old buildings. And," Hermione continued with a dreamy expression, "there are more than 100 libraries, with more than 10 million books. The libraries have one hundred twenty miles of bookshelves. One hundred twenty miles. I've visited every library that is open to undergraduates."

Hermione stopped, and looked around at her friends, "honestly, while I'm so glad I went to Hogwarts, since otherwise we wouldn't be friends, I feel I _belong_ in a way I never did before. I might get a PhD instead of stopping after four years."

Luna chimed in from where she sat tickling Frankie, "you know you have to write a book to get one of those." Everyone laughed as Luna continued, "still I want Hermione to work at the DoM with me."

Hermione smiled, "I would love working at the DoM with you, but I also really love the idea of staying in school." Hermione trailed off and then looked at Daphne, "Your turn: tell us about your fun adventures around the world."

* * *

On Thursday nights, Hermione's co-workers gathered at a local pub after the bookshop closed, "the trolley problem," Niall enthusiastically explained as he took a large swallow from his mug, "is this famous hypothetical question, 'what if five people are tied down on a railway track and a train is coming; the only way to save them is to push the really fat guy next to you off the bridge so he will derail the train - no you can't jump yourself, you are too thin to stop it. Do you push the fat guy?"

Emily, Hermione's closest friend at the bookshop, wrinkled her nose in disgust, "No, that would be awful - besides why are they tied to a railway track anyways, and how do we know he'd actually derail the train?"

Niall waved his hands, "you're missing the point- you don't question the details, you need to treat the hypothetical seriously." After seeing Emily's derisive expression Niall shook his head, "forget it, what about you Hermione?"

"What?"

"Would you kill someone to save five other people?"

"No - you don't get to make choices about who gets to live or die. Besides, its _obviously_ wrong to kill people!"

Niall sat back holding his hands in the air "woah - don't hurt me - you feel strongly about this?"

Hermione nodded and settled back into her chair.

"Never okay to kill someone?" Niall asked, "I mean what about Hitler, if you could go back in time and stop the Nazis from killing the Jews you should. Everyone knows that - right Hermione?"

Hermione frowned, the question reminded her of Harry, she started to twist her napkin absently as she thought through the connection.

Niall continued when she didn't respond, "I know if I could magically go back to 1933 and kill the Nazi leaders before they were elected I'd do so."

Hermione replied sharply, "they hadn't _done _anything yet- its wrong to kill people for something they might do."

Niall tilted his head, "have you read _Mein Kampf_ they had already said they planned to kill all of the Jews and eliminate democracy. They were bad guys. I mean are really you so attached to your deontological concept of right and wrong that you'd let a hundred million people die to avoid doing anything 'wrong'?" Niall set off 'wrong' with air quotes.

Hermione tore her napkin apart; her stomach dropped and she swallowed hard. Had she _missed _something obvious? Niall was right, if you could stop the holocaust by killing Hitler you should - were Harry's actions the same?

When Hermione didn't respond to Niall, Emily asked a little too brightly, "did any of you see the guy who tried to eat his sandwich in the back of the shop today?"

Hermione's heart pounded as she wandered the emptying streets, with the light from the street lamps glinting off the asphalt. Had she been wrong about Harry for the past five years? She needed to prove she hadn't been _stupid_, that she'd been right to hate Harry. It had always been clear: killing people was wrong, something evil people did. So Harry was evil. But - it _was_ like killing Hitler. Maybe Harry didn't think it was wrong to kill blood purists because 'everyone knows you should kill Hitler.'

Again and again she tried to re-connect the dots so Harry appeared evil. But it didn't work: The blood purists were like Nazis. Killing the Nazis would have been justified. Therefore killing the blood purists was justified. Hermione felt elated and horrified. _Was_ Harry a good guy?

Maybe - maybe she could like, love and trust him again. Maybe she didn't have to hate Harry.

But Harry couldn't be good; she wasn't stupid, she wouldn't have missed something obvious. Hermione leaned against a street lamp tried to remember what she'd said to herself years ago.

Murder was murder, it didn't matter who you killed. But - murder _wasn't _murder if it was Hitler. Many of the people Harry killed hadn't done anything yet. But they _would_. Harry said they would kill every muggleborn in Britain. That was genocide; the phrase floated through Hermione's mind, _never again_. There were things which had to be stopped no matter what.

Hermione started to walk along the sidewalk again. What about the prisoners in Azkaban? They'd already been captured and already punished by the law. They were helpless. But they'd done truly horrible things before Azkaban - what if someone released them? Hermione remembered Neville's parents and shivered. Maybe it was right to kill even them.

But, could killing a hundred people ever _really _be the right thing to do? Hermione felt torn, it still didn't seem right to kill someone who hadn't even decided to do what you killed them for. But, _never again_. Some things had to be stopped. Harry could have found a better way. For example, if someone stopped the Nazis from being elected that would be better than killing them. But, _obviously,_ if someone just killed Hitler when they had the chance they wouldn't be a monster.

Harry wasn't a monster.

Hermione collapsed onto the wooden bench at a bus stop. Harry wasn't a monster.

She'd thought Harry was a monster. How could she have thought her best friend was a monster? How? After everything Harry did for her, how could she have told him he was a monster? She was an awful person.

Hermione shivered as she watched the traffic dwindle. How could she have been so _stupid_? Hermione's self-loathing was interrupted by a spike of happiness: Harry wasn't a monster. She _didn't _have to hate him.

Some childlike part of her mind that had never truly stopped trusting Harry to be perfect plaintively asked: Couldn't he have just told me?

Harry never tried to justify himself. Ever. For a dizzying moment Hermione imagined her life if Harry _had _convinced her he was right, if she hadn't partly hated him for years. He could have done it. Probably.

She'd been sixteen. She'd been old enough to handle the truth. He wouldn't have destroyed her childlike 'innocence' or some rot like that. Stupid naivete wasn't good anyways. Hermione felt a rush of tenderness and anger towards Harry. He'd wanted to protect her. He'd treated her like a child.

Eventually Hermione knew with the clarity that came from staying awake long enough to no longer felt sleepy that she needed to talk to Harry; it was 4am, but he'd told her she could call at any time….

"Hermione, are you okay, what's wrong, where are you?" Harry's voice was panicked when he picked up after the second ring - Hermione smiled, she should have known he'd worry.

"No, no, nothing's wrong. I'm fine, completely fine - I've been thinking - and I really wanted to talk to you."

"At 4am?"

"Yes - well, maybe not. I -"

There was a crack of apparition, and Harry stood next to her in a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and an open green robe, with his black hair flattened on one side from where he'd slept on it.

"How'd you know where I was?"

Harry just looked at her.

"Oh yeah, the emergency portkey you gave me."

They were silent for a moment as Hermione examined Harry, and a broad smile started across her face - seeing him here, having jumped up a moment after she called him, caused a feeling of happiness to bubble up.

He looked so … pretty, with his bed head, bare chest, and the grumpy frown that grew as he watched her smile but didn't know what the joke was. After a moment Hermione threw her arms around Harry, giving him a tight hug, which he cautiously reciprocated - "Oh, I'm so glad to see you!" Hermione enthused while enjoying how warm he felt.

"Did, ah - something happen Mione?" Harry asked as he patted her back, sounding more than slightly worried.

Hermione stepped back and started with a broad smile "No - its just…" she trailed off; how could she explain it to Harry in a way that wouldn't sound wrong, or worry him? Perhaps she should have waited till morning to talk to him.

Harry smirked at her, "Hermione Granger speechless - I've never seen that before."

Hermione's smile came back as she smacked Harry on the arm. Harry looked at her with a fond smile, "Come on lets find somewhere to talk." Harry's wand was out in an instant and with a muttered phrase he was dressed in jeans and a sweater, then he grabbed her arm, and a second later she found herself in an alley with a 24 hour diner across the road.

While Harry pulled her in and ordered coffee and a slice of pie for both of them Hermione tried to think through what she wanted to say. She was still thinking when they were settled comfortably across from each other with the steam from their cups curling in front of them. "Still speechless?"

Hermione opened her mouth but the words didn't come, after a moment of watching Harry's smile broaden she finally said, "I've been an idiot."

Harry grinned as he picked up his cup, "So Hermione Granger, in one day both speechless _and_ an idiot?"

Hermione frowned at him, "I was thinking about you - and, and I was wrong to think you were a - to think you were so awful."

Harry sobered and silently waited for her to elaborate. Hermione felt uncomfortable, as the silence continued she could hear everything in the restaurant: bustling behind the counter, murmured conversations between other patrons, the sound of porcelain against wood as someone set down their cup…. Eventually Hermione babbled "You see I was with the group from the bookshop - and Niall was talking about his philosophy class again - and he said 'what if you could go back in time and kill Hitler' - it is a _cliche_ but you did something similar - and I realized I'd never thought about if you might have been right."

"And now I think you," Hermione took a deep breath, "you _could_ have killed fewer people, but most of what you did was probably necessary - I was _stupid_ to not realize you weren't evil - and when I think about how me and all of my muggleborn friends are still alive, and how without you we would all be dead - I want to scream at myself, I can't believe I never thought this through, I was so _stupid _when I just automatically assumed you were evil - I've been thinking all night, and I wanted to talk to you and - well maybe I shouldn't have woken you, but I'm glad you're here."

Harry continued to stare intently at her and flatly asked, "you don't think I'm evil, because what I did was like going back in time to kill Hitler?"

Hermione blushed, but shook her head up and down.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and snapped out, "I don't _want_ you to approve of me. I don't want you to understand what could make someone think the only good enemy is a dead enemy. I didn't do it so that you would like me - I did it so you would be safe - and you _shouldn't _force yourself to change how you think about me- "

"Well," Hermione interrupted him and leaned forward with her hands placed on either side of her slice of pie, "I might not understand what you went through - because you never told me - but I do know you aren't evil, and I don't care if you want me to think you are, you _aren't_. I only thought you were because I was angry and hurt, and I was too irrational to _think_. I was _stupid._ Stupid, stupid, stupid."_  
_

She looked away from Harry and started to cry. Harry touched Hermione on the arm with a soft expression, "I _know _what it was like to be helpless and watch lots of people die - _nobody _should expect you to do anything but hate the person who did it. Nobody. You weren't stupid, _never _think that about yourself."

Harry held Hermione's eyes until she nodded.

Hermione then said, "_L__isten_ \- I was _wrong _when I thought you were evil. Just because I don't have your experiences doesn't mean I can't see that you saved the lives of innocent people."

Harry now frowned at his cup of coffee. Hermione could tell he was thinking so she didn't say anything; Hermione relaxed and the tense anger at herself dissolved. Harry was _wrong _of course; she had been a stupid angry teenager, but his demand that she never think she was stupid made her feel better. Somewhere deep down she still always believed Harry when he spoke in that tone. Hermione took a bite from the slice of apple pie; it was delicious and she was hungry after walking all night.

Eventually Harry looked up, "I'd never thought of it like that." He grinned, "it sounds silly, but it _is _similar to going back in time to kill Hitler."

Harry continued in a serious tone, "Maybe I didn't treat you right when I never talked to you about this, I -"

"You treated me like a child, someone who wasn't qualified to know the facts and make their own decisions."

"Perhaps," Harry nodded, "I did think of you as a child and the idea of trying to convince you that I was _right _felt very wrong. But, it never occurred to me that someone could accept what I did without my experiences; the person I was on May 1 of that year could not have understood or accepted the person I was on May 7. And - I suppose I could have used a pensieve to show you my memories, but it would have been _you _watching what happened to someone else, you wouldn't be able to feel the aching loneliness, and the knowledge it was your fault that everyone died..."

Hermione reached forward and squeezed Harry's shoulder, "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry." She stared into his sad eyes desperately trying to make his pain less by sharing it.

After a moment Harry nodded, and then he gave a half smirk, "You always surprise me, you know, the idea that I'd someday be told 'its okay, I understand, _its just __like if someone killed Hitler'"_ Harry shook his head and smiled,_ "_it is a good analogy though. I hated them, I truly hated them, but I killed them because they were dangerous."

Harry took a bite from his pie, "You think I could have stopped them while killing far fewer people. Maybe I could have, but I've learned - living enemies kill people you love - you see there was a prophecy that said I would defeat You-Know-Who. I didn't want to be a murderer so when I had a chance to kill him I -" Harry paused his eyes flicking to the side as a his mouth turned sad; he looked back and stared at Hermione's face for a minute with a unhappy, haunted look, "its not - a pleasant story - I…"

Hermione squeezed Harry's arm, trying to reassure him, it snapped Harry out of his reverie, he placed his hand on top of her's and started in a reflective voice, "You are so like her and yet very different. She'd have loved to know that... some version of her was going to Oxford, and able to explore those libraries, and - "

Harry paused, swallowed and continued, "We were in love, you know, its faded with time, but I missed her so much. We were teenagers - we were convinced things would _somehow_ work out if we just figured out the hints Dumbledore left us in his will. You-Know-Who had left behind these bits of his soul that let him come back to life, and he'd risen again, and we destroyed them all, and right after Neville destroyed the last soul container," Harry trailed off and the haunted look returned - "I disarmed You-Know-Who, I had an advantage because I had a better claim to the deathstick, I can still see it so clearly, the early dawn light glinting off the the wand as it flew to my hand and the sensation of rightness as I held it for the first time; Voldemort sitting there dazed, he looked like he couldn't understand what had happened - I stunned him, didn't even think to kill him."

Harry took a deep breath. Hermione watched him intently, the picture floating through her mind. "I went in the other direction and helped Molly Weasley fight Bellatrix LeStrange - a lot of the death eaters had fled and it felt like we'd won, I heard a scream from behind me and I turned and - and -" Harry stared at Hermione intently, "Merlin- I watched that moment at least twenty times in a pensieve; I look at you and I see it happen to you - she was very thin, we'd not had enough to eat for months, and her hair was in a really thick ponytail, but otherwise - you have the same genes, the same face, the same expressions… well, You-Know-Who killed her, and then I was wounded and I barely escaped."

Harry trailed off, Hermione's throat tightened as she looked at the sadness in his eyes; she got up and gave Harry a tight hug. He held her tightly, and after a moment said in a choked voice - "I've never talked about this - Bill and Charlie had their own losses - and Sirius, well after Azkaban -"

Hermione sat back down, but she kept a tight grip on Harry's hand as he spoke again, "that wound nearly killed me, I was stuck in a bed alone with my thoughts for a week, and I relived my failure to kill him again and again. I decided then I'd never let anyone live who was a threat. Most of us were dead, but Charlie and Bill - the oldest of the Weasley brothers - had survived; Bill was with Fleur in France, so after I recovered enough to travel I went there and eventually came up with a plan -" Harry looked Hermione in the eyes - "it wasn't about doing the right thing; it wasn't about protecting anyone; it was about revenge. We wanted them dead. And with a lot of luck and some skill after three years we killed them all."

"When I found myself here, eleven again, I knew I would never let them live long enough to do it again." Harry pulled his hand from Hermione's, and sat up firmly, "If any of them were alive, they would be dangerous. I did what I had to do, and I'll never apologize for that."

"I didn't kill the teenagers, though I have watched all of them closely," Harry looked around and swallowed, he leaned in closer to Hermione and said in a quiet voice, "Adrian Pucey's death wasn't an accident. He'd started watching muggle women; I checked with legilimency and I'm pretty sure he would have soon started raping women. He did in the other world."

Hermione felt a kick, she wasn't surprised Harry had recently killed someone, but it was a shock. And Hermione still felt torn, Harry made people safer, and rapists needed to be stopped, but, even though it was Harry, someone spying on people to decide whether to kill them was very creepy. Still it _was _Harry, Hermione grabbed his hand again and committed to herself: she would always accept Harry. _No matter what_.

* * *

_Thank you for reading, also, ninja888 pointed out in a review that Antonin Dolohov in addition to being the wizard who hurt Hermione in OotP, also was one of the wizards they fought in the cafe in London after fleeing the wedding _and _was the wizard who killed Remus._

_I hope you are enjoying this enough to not mind if I make quick appeal on a very important subject that has little to do with the story. Every month I give money to Doctors Without Borders. You should too. Ten dollars a month, or twenty, or whatever you feel comfortable giving, will help build a world where babies don't constantly die and where childbirth almost never kills. Hermione will be happy if you do._


	8. Chapter 8

_JK Rowling is the owner of Harry Potter, _we, _however, are the proud writers and readers of Harry Potter fanfiction._

* * *

Hermione asked Harry to tell stories about his childhood; she thought it would be good for him to remember the happy times, and she was _really _curious. What had her other self been like? Apparently she had been awesome. Someone who was always prepared, someone who always figured out the answer to riddles, someone who always came up with the plan. Someone Harry depended on.

She wasn't like that - Hermione knew she _could _have been - but she was softer than her counterpart. Really she was useless. Everyone depended on Harry, but he didn't have anyone he could depend on. Certainly not her. She'd been an awful friend, unlike _his _Hermione who had always stuck by him.

One night at Harry's apartment, after she grabbed her pizza and sat on one end of the green couch with red pillows, Hermione asked in a small voice, "Don't you wish I was like her - somebody who could help you the way she helped you? Someone you could depend on?"

"I do depend on you." Harry appeared confused for a moment before his face morphed into a sympathetic expression, He scooted over on the couch and gave Hermione a tight hug, "you shouldn't compare yourself to her. You are a wonderful person, just like she was, but you aren't the same person, and you shouldn't want to be."

Hermione buried her face into Harry's shoulder, "but I abandoned you, and I've never helped you on anything important, or protected you -"

Hermione slowly relaxed as Harry silently stroked her hair, after a minute he said, "You do realize I've known you longer than I knew her? My life without you would be so empty - I love listening to you talk, and - remember how you could tell when I had a nightmare, and you'd talk to me until I relaxed. If you weren't there my life would have sucked."

Hermione sniffled a bit as she sat back to look at Harry's face, "really?"

"Really," Harry nodded firmly, "can you imagine what I would have been like if we weren't friends? I'd have made a principled point of never talking to other students, and spent the entire time training in the Room of Requirements, and Dobby and Sirius would have been my only friends - and while I love both of them…."

Hermione giggled while still leaning on Harry; she enjoyed the feel of his warm arm around her. Harry probably _would_ have acted that way. But - "still, don't you wish I _was _cooler, and able to help with practical things?"

"No." When Harry didn't continue Hermione looked up at him with a question in her eyes. Hermione felt more than saw Harry's shrug, "The only reason we were like that at all was because Dumbledore failed to protect us. Children shouldn't nearly die again and again; if they are forced to grow up like that, it means the adults failed horribly. If you'd grown up paranoid and terrified of failing to protect me, that would have been a horrible failure on _my_ part."

"Yes, but, even if it is - technically good - that I didn't grow up that way, wouldn't it be nice if your best friend could support you that way? Could protect you?"

Harry shook his head, "No, I already have Dobby for backup, and life turned me into the paranoid git who always tries to be ready for the worst to happen, we really don't need two of me. Besides, you are missing something important - not only was she a different person than you are, I wasn't the person you've known." Harry grabbed his pizza with his free arm and started to eat, "You see, we weren't friends until Ron and I saved her from the troll. And our life was always filled with dangerous adventures, professors trying to kill me, researching threats and preparing to fight You-Know-Who. You can't go through some things without becoming close and facing death together is one of them."

Hermione kept herself squished against Harry, but sat up she could also eat her pizza as Harry continued, "We were friends because we fought together. I wasn't very studious, and until Ron got angry at me over the Goblet of Fire I always felt closer to him than her." Harry's gaze became unfocused as he remembered, "We made fun of how hard she studied and the time she spent in the library, and she'd force us to do our homework, and then she'd check over our essays - sometimes she'd even do part of our work for us, Ron had her do more school work for him than I did, but I certainly took advantage of her."

Hermione frowned as she imagined a Harry who didn't read and who needed help with his homework. It was a weird image, _her _Harry was mature and smart and talked about books with her - it was Neville or Susan who she'd help with homework, and Harry made sure everyone did the work themselves so they would learn properly. Hermione wrinkled her nose, "I like my version of you more."

Harry had been drinking soda as she spoke and he snorted it up as he started to laugh, "excuse me" he blew his nose with a napkin and then looked at her with a red face and bright eyes, "I'm glad you approve".

Hermione flushed, "_obviously_, the only reason you turned out so well is due to the hard work of that other me: don't feel too pleased."

Harry laughed, "that is definitely true."

They grinned at each other for a minute before Harry spoke again, "My friendship with you has always been different, I've always talked more with you than I ever did with her; in a lot of ways I know you better - also don't forget, I've known you longer than I knew her."

A giant smile forced itself across Hermione's face, somehow his answer had settled her anxiety. She snuggled into Harry's side again, and he obligingly put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. Hermione didn't stop smiling as she said, "you must have terribly bored when I was a child and I'd babble on and on and on about books. I mean you already knew everything…."

Harry coughed up his soda again, "I already knew everything? Well, if you think I did, I suppose you must be right…."

Hermione smacked him and laughed, "Of course you didn't know _everything_, you just convinced an impressionable child that you did. Honestly, you should ashamed of yourself."

"I suppose I should be." Harry squeezed Hermione closer and leaned over to kiss her on the forehead, "I apologize to mini Hermione for being so dastardly as to appear perfect. Could you relay my profound regrets to her?"

They both giggled before Harry said, "I was never bored, at first I just wanted you to be happy, but had no idea what to say. So if you talked it would be easier. But," Harry shrugged, "while I'd never have believed this as a child, books are interesting. And when you talked you'd get this glint in your eye and your voice would catch your enthusiasm, and you'd move your hands like this," Harry gestured, and then he said in a fervent voice, "It would be impossible to become bored listening to you."

When Harry finished Hermione's mouth fell open, "Harry, I think that might just be the sweetest thing you've ever said to me."

He blushed brightly; Hermione couldn't stop smiling and she had a warm feeling in her chest. After a moment she leaned up and kissed Harry on the cheek, "thank you for always listening."

Harry only blushed brighter and they sat there for several minutes holding each other. Eventually Hermione asked, "Can you tell me more about how you think she was different, besides the obvious?"

Harry kept his arm around her while he frowned at the brown coffee table and collected his thoughts, "None of us had a proper childhood and we all knew after the first year that it was up to us to solve every problem. We couldn't rely on the adults. In an important way she stopped being a child when she was twelve. She felt like if she didn't work as hard as possible, if she wasn't the smartest I would die, and it would be her fault." Harry stuttered to a stop and swore, "Damn Dumbledore. Damn him. She was eighteen, she had stress lines around her eyes and she was always desperately scared."

After he trailed off Harry stared at the Hogwarts diploma above the TV for a minute before he said, "I suppose we already talked about that difference, the other obvious way you two always seemed different is that," Harry turned to Hermione and shrugged, "I don't know why, but she was desperately driven in school in a way you never have been. You enjoy school, and it is important to you, but when she faced a Bogart third year her greatest fear was being told she'd failed all of her classes…."

Harry turned pale, "Merlin, I thought it was silly at the time," Harry sounded sick, "My best friend thought she'd be worthless if she couldn't prove that she was the smartest; she felt the only reason we wanted her was because of her intelligence. And I never realized…."

Harry pulled his arm away from Hermione and his gaze darted around the room as he rubbed his hair. "_Don't_," Hermione grabbed Harry's face and turned it towards her, "You were a child. It doesn't do any good to wish you'd acted differently." Hermione held eye contact until Harry nodded.

She leaned back against Harry again, and pulled his arm around her. Harry sighed and shook his head, "Still, Merlin! I never realized ... You've never been like that. I don't know why, but I'm glad."

Hermione smiled, "Its all you, of course. You made sure I knew you'd love me no matter what. Everyone else, my parents, my teachers, everyone would tell me that I was smart, while you told me you believed in me and would always be my friend no matter what. Besides, I always knew you were smarter than me, so there was no point worrying about being the best."

Harry looked confused as he set the crust from a slice of pizza down on his plate, "I was always smarter than you?"

Hermione laughed, "Don't be silly, even without the 'I'm a decade older and have done it before' thing you are brilliant. I mean think about the things you've done." Harry still looked confused. Hermione realized he _didn't _see himself as smart. Was it her counterpart's fault?

Goodness though, it was time for Harry to realize what he'd actually accomplished, "Stop being silly. You do realize dumb people can't do your job? And look at everything you've accomplished. An idiot couldn't have done that."

Harry glanced at the table with his thinking scowl and then looked up at her half a minute later with a twisted smile, "Bloody hell, you're right. I am brilliant. Wow. I'd never realized."

Harry had a stunned expression as he sat back. After a moment Hermione said in a faux stern tone through which her smile could easily be heard, "don't let it go to your head."

"I don't know, it easily could. I think I'll get all puffed up, and go around telling everyone I'm the smartest and - " Hermione smacked Harry to stop him.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure it doesn't."

* * *

Two weeks later they had dinner near the back of a small curry place. Harry had set up privacy wards so they could freely talk, and over the past few weeks Hermione had read several psychology textbooks. Most said it was a good for people to talk about horrible experiences with someone they trusted. Obviously, Harry couldn't talk to a psychiatrist: between 'magic doesn't exist' and 'mass murder is illegal' it would be a really bad idea. So Hermione knew it would have to be her who helped Harry talk about the things that gave him nightmares.

She thought it was probably the fighting that had been the most traumatic, so after the waiter brought their plates of food she asked, "Was it horrible being a soldier and killing people?"

Harry frowned as he stopped spooning his curry onto the rice, "I'm not sure we should talk about this, I did some nasty things, and … I'm not sure you want to hear about them." He looked away from her, "I'm not sure I want to tell you."

"I know you don't want to talk about this, but you went through awful things, and just holding it in isn't good for you. When someone has gone through something traumatic they should talk about it so they can get distance and -"

Harry interrupted her with a touch on the arm, "I wasn't traumatized by killing people. I wasn't traumatized by the fighting. I _liked _it." Harry glanced around uneasily before he locked his eyes on Hermione, "that's what I don't want to tell you. What I -" Harry looked down at his hands, "I'm scared Hermione, I will never lie to you, but I'm worried that if - if you understand what I really am you'll decide that I'm evil after all, and that I am a monster, and you'll run again and never return."

"I don't want that," Harry visibly swallowed as he stared at his hands, "I really don't want that."

Hermione's stomach felt awful; this was her fault. She'd called Harry a monster and now he'd internalized it. Hermione grabbed Harry's shoulder and made him look at her, "you aren't a monster. I was wrong, you shouldn't believe that you are awful because I said that and -"

There was a glint of amusement in Harry's eye when he interrupted her, "I _am _a monster, just like a dragon is a monster. But I don't dislike myself anymore than a dragon would." Harry saw the disagreement in her eyes and continued, "Think, those legendary heroes, Achilles or Hector or King Arthur, if you view them from the perspective of their enemies, if you think about how many people they killed, and how much more powerful than a normal man they were, it would be accurate to call them monsters."

Hermione lightly joked despite her sick feeling, "King Arthur and Achilles? A dragon? At least you don't have self esteem problems."

Harry grinned at her, then for a minute they silently picked at their food. Hermione still felt awful. Harry, rightly, didn't trust her to always be there for him. Even if he didn't hate himself, she _needed _Harry to trust her, to know that no matter what she would - she would love him. She needed Harry to be able to tell her anything.

There was also a bit of anxiety: what was he hiding that he was _still _scared to tell her about? Thoughts of awful things he might have done in his first world, during that quest for vengeance flashed through Hermione's mind, and she committed again: _no matter what _she would never reject him.

Hermione looked at Harry as he slowly pushed his chicken tikka masala around, "Harry do you trust me?"

Hermione felt her stomach flip as Harry's green eyes seemed to look through her soul before he nodded. Hermione then held his eyes and said intently, willing him to believe her, "I won't run away again, I will _never _run away from you again." A very old memory from the day when Harry showed her his broom went through Hermione's mind, "_Nothing_ you tell me will ever make me less your friend."

Harry looked away from her and swallowed hard, then he stared at his food as he slowly collected his thoughts. "Battle," he began, "is more fun than anything else. You know one of you will die and your blood is humming and everything is intense and bright and a second feels like a minute. And you are completely focused, and then you blow his arm off, or cut the big arteries in the leg, or get an instant kill through."

Harry stared out into the restaurant, "better duelists can stop it but you can transfigure the air in someone's lungs into an explosive. I almost always try that before anything else. Its not as much fun as a real fight, but you don't want a real fight if there is a large group. When fighting a group you don't feel anything as you kill them because everything is focused on the next opponent, but when you've defeated the last one that thrill of knowing you are alive and they are dead, there is no better feeling in the world."

After a pause where he scooped his rice and curry onto a torn off piece of _roti_ Harry continued, "There was an American general during their civil war who said something like 'it is good that war is so awful, else we would come to love it' - I'd seen how awful it was when everyone died, but I still came to love it. I miss the adrenaline, the feeling of desperation, and the plotting and preparation, the knowledge there is no do-over, and that mistakes are fatal. Flying or hunting acromantulas can't provide a comparable thrill. I have wonderful dreams about battles, the real hard fights when I hit a group too big or things I did in Africa; there are some extremely good warriors there."

Harry trailed off and Hermione touched him on the arm, and asked "I thought your nightmares were about fighting?"

"No, my nightmares are where other people die. Most often her, it happened right in front of me after all. Sometimes you. Sometimes the two of you are merged in my dreams. Other people. Luna especially - she didn't have any friends for years and she was killed even younger than your counterpart. Dobby, he died right in front of me when Bellatrix sent a knife through him. I still have nightmares about Cedric Diggory dying, he was the first person I saw killed, I was only fourteen. Sirius was killed by Bellatrix LeStrange when she knocked him through the veil in the Department of Mysteries."

Harry took a swallow from his chai tea and shook his head, "Merlin!" He let out a deep breath, "I've seen a lot of people die."

They ate in silence for another minute before Hermione asked, "Are there any stories that stick out from the time you were fighting?"

Harry frowned at his plate for a minute, "I suppose my most vivid memory is when I killed You-Know-Who. He had his soul anchors, and while we'd destroyed all of them he made another one; it fragmented his humanity even further - he was completely insane. So I sent him a letter; it said something like 'I'll be at Godric's Hollow, come alone if you aren't a coward'. He was insane, so he just apparated there immediately. And he stood in the open, completely unprotected, in this black robe that exposed half his chest, ranting and taunting me. By this point I was something of a professional, so I ignored what he said and lined up a shot and stunned him.."

Harry paused as the waiter refilled their water, "You see I needed to find where he'd put the other soul anchor to permanently destroy him; I later discovered a much much easier way to deal with someone who'd made horcruxes. That was how I destroyed the You-Know-Who in this universe."

Harry continued, "I took him back to the camp I'd set up with Charlie, Kreacher and Winky. We forced a potion down his throat, which temporarily made it so he couldn't use magic, tied him up and woke him."

Harry's eyes grew distant, "There he was, he looked stunned, he didn't have any eyebrows and his face was completely pale and snakelike - the resurrection hadn't gone perfectly - and he was scared. He was so scared. He had these wide eyes." Harry smiled as he remembered, "And then there was a sound and I could smell it, he shat himself, and then I asked 'well Mr. Riddle, do you want to tell me where your horcrux is' and he replied 'fuck you Potter' - but he was still definitely scared, and then -"

Harry gestured as though he was pointing his wand at something beneath him, "_Crucio_. I just held it for a minute. And he screamed, and screamed, and screamed." Harry smile became creepy as he stared into the memories, "When I let go he didn't say 'fuck you again' he just watched at me. I could see it in his eyes; he knew he'd tell me. Voldemort had tortured so many, but he had no pain tolerance, nobody had ever dared to hurt him since he was a boy. So I cast it again, and held it for another minute - he was having trouble screaming by this point because his vocal cords were damaged, but he hurt I could tell."

Harry pulled his lips back and brandished his teeth, and Hermione thought he was too absorbed in the memory to see her anymore, "I thought if I just stared at him a bit longer he'd tell me, so I didn't give him the chance." Harry gestured with his hand again, "_Crucio_. After that he told me. It only took three minutes to break the 'most terrifying dark lord ever'. Pathetic. He then told me where his horcrux was, and all of its defenses. So I took Kreacher for backup and left Charlie there with Winky to keep an eye on Voldemort. Then I came back with the horcrux."

"He'd done everything to escape death, he'd even stuck it in his name 'flees from death', so I made it painless," Hermione could see the muscles in Harry's neck tense as he bit out, "He had to _know _he was dying, he shouldn't have _anything _to distract him from the fact he'd lost and _this _was the end. I destroyed the horcrux in front of him and then cast a numbing spell and just barely nicked one of the arteries in his groin so he could see the blood slowly ooze out to form a bigger and bigger puddle but wouldn't be able to feel it."

"We all got beers and set up chairs so we could drink while watching him. It took two hours - we cast several blood replenishing spells so he'd have plenty of time to think - and we joked the whole time. And his eyes - I talked to Charlie about it later and we agreed - the panic in them was the most beautiful sight either of us had ever seen. Then we made a game of destroying the body; Kreacher was very inventive."

When he trailed off Harry's eyes were stunned, and he looked away, pushing a hand against his mouth. Hermione stomach felt tight and sick as she watched Harry stare away from her. The story was horrible, but - and she knew this attitude was wrong - but You-Know-Who _deserved_ to die that way; all that mattered was Harry. How could she make him happier? Hermione furiously debated with herself: should she grab Harry's hand, should she say something?

Before Hermione acted, Harry looked at her with wide eyes, "That was the happiest day of my life. That _shouldn't _have been the happiest day of my life. I shouldn't have even enjoyed it. I -" Harry swallowed and turned away again, "I should have just killed him. It didn't matter what he'd done, it was _wrong_ to -"

Hermione reached across the table and grabbed Harry's arm; he looked at her hand, and looked away from her again. "_Look at me,_" Harry's face was scared as Hermione looked into his eyes and passionately said, "you _aren't_ a monster, _anyone _who'd gone through what you had would have felt like that." She held Harry's eyes until he swallowed and nodded, then Hermione said, "Don't _ever _think you are anything but a good person. _Ever_."

_Thankyou for reading, I don't know if you will agree, but this is my favorite chapter. Bits of the first conversation are so cute and fluffy, and I think the Harry's description of killing Voldemort is the best thing I've written yet. Though what makes me like it may not make you as a reader like it._


	9. Chapter 9

_Harry Potter belongs to the J K Rowling._

_Just warning everyone, this is the final chapter, I think I lingered over the end long enough, but given that we are all used to stories that _never _end it might seem weird that this does. _

* * *

Hermione happily twisted back and forth in front of Luna's mirror; her eyes shined, her heels set off her ankles perfectly, and the knee-length blue dress fit _just _right. She looked fabulous. Luna smiled at her, "that dress looks perfect on you," then she asked mischievously, "trying to impress somebody special?"

Harry's handsome image popped into her mind. It had been a week since they'd talked about how he killed Voldemort, and Hermione's stomach fluttered with happiness every time she thought about it. Harry had trusted her. He'd been scared, but he trusted her. What Harry had gone through was horrible, but how could she not be happy every time she thought about it? Harry had told her his worst memories, and she'd been able to help him feel better.

"Maybe," Hermione happily replied to her friend, "I love your hair, the strands of fire you worked into it are gorgeous."

They looked each other over again to make sure everything was in place, and then Hermione grabbed Luna's hand, "come on let's go."

Daphne had fallen in love while in South America. Her fiance was from a very wealthy Argentinian family, and the Greengrass family were throwing a big party to introduce their future son-in-law to the British wizarding world. Luna and Hermione arrived early because they wanted to support Daphne, so when they apparated to Greengrass Manor they found that the crowd in the ballroom had only started to gather. Hermione had always loved the giant room with shiny floors, and a mirror for the ceiling. The buffet tables were packed with mouthwatering and rare foods from around the world – Hermione thought Daphne's parents wanted to advertise how many countries they did business in to the partygoers. The Weird Sisters had been hired, and were preparing on the band stage.

Daphne saw them and ran up to hug Luna and Hermione with a broad smile, "I'm so glad you two are going to be able to finally meet Louis! He's so dreamy and handsome, and you'll love his sense of humor."

As Daphne enthusiastically described her fiancé Hermione's eyes briefly glanced around the ballroom to see who was already there. She saw Harry, he seemed to glow, like a bright lamp surrounded by candles. Harry was enthusiastically talking to Neville and he looked unusually handsome in his sharp black dress robes. His hair fell over his forehead, and his hands flashed white above the sleeve of his robes.

When Harry glanced over he caught her eye and walked towards them with a happy smile that made Hermione's stomach flip. He hugged Hermione and then Luna, and he smiled at the three of the girls while saying to Hermione, "you are looking especially beautiful tonight," he grinned at Luna, "you too." Then to Daphne, "I only talked to Louis for a minute, but he seems solid."

Daphne laughed, "of course he is, I did pick him. Just remember what I said: you can scare him, but only a little."

"Now, what makes you think I would ever scare your fiancé? I just want to get to know him."

Everyone laughed as the Weird Sisters started to play, Harry looked at Hermione with a twinkle in his eyes and he bowed elaborately taking her hand and kissing it, "would the lady do me the honor of giving me the first dance of the night."

Hermione giggled, "why yes, handsome sir, I do believe I have this dance open."

He took her hand and led her to the dance floor, and Harry's smile and bright eyes made the butterflies in Hermione's stomach intensify.

An hour later Hermione stood next to Daphne eating an alfajor she'd grabbed from the buffet table - it was a delicious creme filled cookie that was a popular Argentinian snack. They both watched Harry talk to Louis. Harry had a very serious look as he asked Louis questions; it made him look a bit scary - and _very_ handsome, and Louis seemed a bit intimidated. Hermione couldn't stop smiling as she watched Harry speak, and admired the way his messy hair fell around the collar of his robe.

"You and Harry seem closer," Daphne leaned in and asked with a mischievous smile, "did you finally start sleeping together?"

Hermione blushed brightly, "No!"

"Well why not, he's a handsome bloke – I've seen how you've looked at him all night."

Hermione flushed, and looked open mouthed at her friend who continued, "you know, we all thought you two would have gotten together by now. I mean you are perfect together, and I can't imagine Harry being happy with anyone else, and you _already _make a cute couple. Its past time for you to make your move."

Hermione looked back at Harry, he and Louis were grinning at each other while shaking hands. He was _so_ handsome. Especially when he was happy. Or serious. Or - well, Harry _always _looked good. As the two walked towards them Hermione looked at Daphne again, "you're right," she shook her head decidedly, "it is time."

* * *

The night had been perfect, and Hermione was glowing as the guests slowly dispersed. Harry apparated with her to a point Hermione had set up near her apartment by placing a muggle repelling ward. It took only a minute to walk the rest of the way. After Hermione unlocked her thick oak door, Harry hugged her briefly, then smiled and said, "well, good night Mione."

Hermione shouted before he could get far, "wait, Harry!" He turned around and he was illuminated by the light from an almost full moon, it made the glossy fabric of Harry's perfectly fitted dress robes seem to glow, and his hair fell over his forehead and Hermione licked her lips as she watched him.

For a long second Hermione stood there with a racing pulse, but before the silence turned awkward she darted forward and kissed Harry on the cheek and said, "thank you for everything." She whirled around and rushed into her apartment before Harry could say anything.

Hermione collapsed against her door with a broad smile and pulled her arms around her knees, while breathing heavily. After a minute of waiting she heard the subdued crack of Harry's apparition. She felt like an idiot and she felt like the world was perfect.

She loved Harry. As Hermione pulled off her heels and rubbed her feet she relived how he looked and how it felt when they danced earlier tonight. It had been wonderful to feel him twirl her and hold her with his strong arms; the Weird Sisters had played the song they'd played years ago at a Yule Ball when Hermione danced with Harry the first time. Harry looked so happy in his tux as they danced. She loved Harry.

As she worked through her nighttime routine Hermione smiled and smiled; she had so many, many reasons to love Harry. He always believed in her. He was handsome. He'd _trusted _her with his worst memories. He loved her voice. He _liked _to listen to her. He made her feel warm and cared for and a day without him was empty and sad.

She should have told him; it had been a perfect moment. That thought didn't damage Hermione's smile though - next time she had Harry to herself she _would _tell him.

Harry was there the next day when everybody met for Sunday brunch, but all of their time was spent in group activities, and getting to know Louis better; it was fun, but unfortunately Hermione had no opportunity to properly talk to Harry. Hermione decided that tomorrow, when she had pizza at Harry's apartment, like they normally did on Monday, she'd tell him.

When Hermione returned to her apartment after classes Monday afternoon, she ignored her homework and decided to figure out exactly what to say. She'd been nervous thinking about it all day. Hermione set a pile of college ruled notebook paper on the beautiful antique desk that had come with the room, and grabbed a big expensive pen with an Oxford logo that she'd bought during welcome week. She loved that pen and saved it for special occasions.

She wrote in big letters across the top of her first page: "Reasons I love Harry". She stared critically at the words, and underlined them. That looked more emphatic. She twisted her pen around as she frowned at the paper: what should she write? Finally Hermione placed on the sheet, "Very fanciable."

Hermione had a dreamy smile as she added: "very, very". She absently drew hearts around the words and remembered how Harry looked when he stood in line in front of her when they'd visited EuroDisney, and he'd worn a pair of grey shorts. Then Hermione's mouth went dry and she licked her lips as another image popped into her mind: Harry in exercise shorts and no shirt doing his morning exercise routine.

Hermione looked at the paper with the repetition of very and the hearts doodled around it. That was useless. She pushed the paper to the side and grabbed another sheet and wrote, "always listens to me", and beneath that she added "makes me feel warm and cared for when we talk." Then "I love the way Harry always looks down and frowns when he is thinking hard." Hermione hugged herself with a smile and finally added, "it feels really, really, really good when he gives me a tight hug."

Hermione frowned: this was all about how she felt. Hermione had read, and it made a lot of sense, that if you wanted someone to do something you shouldn't talk about why you wanted it done, but about what they would get out of it. Why should Harry want to be with her?

She stuck that piece of paper on top of the first and grabbed a fresh sheet: "Reasons I would be perfect for Harry." Immediately she wrote the first thing that popped into her mind, "He needs someone who will tell him when he's being an idiot." She loved how when she told Harry he was wrong about something he always listened and thought about what she said. He respected her. Hermione then added, "he needs someone he can tell anything. I know how to make him feel better when he is feeling down. I already know all of his secrets, and he trusted me enough to tell me them."

Hermione remembered Harry's wide eyes a week ago when he told her about killing Voldemort. He'd been scared _but he still trusted her_ _enough to tell her_. Hermione shivered with happiness at that thought. She loved Harry, she loved him, she loved him, she loved him.

Hermione looked back at her list, this wouldn't work: he _definitely _needed someone to tell him when he was being stupid, but when she told him how much she loved him might not be the best time to bring it up. Hermione grabbed a new sheet and nervously reshuffled the papers so the most recent one was on the bottom.

Maybe she should figure out how to respond to any objections Harry might have. This made Hermione feel awful - what if he said 'you are just a child, I could never see you that way', or 'I just don't like you that way, I never could', or what if he said...

Hermione spent the next 45 minutes writing down lists of reasons Harry might reject her, and then crumpling them up and tossing them into her small yellow trashcan; she worried herself into a frenzy. Then she noticed the time, she still had no idea what she would say, but if she didn't hurry she'd be late and she didn't want to make Harry wait.

As Hermione put on her makeup she found her hands were shaking and it took twice as long as normal, and now that she was worried about what might go wrong her face just didn't look quite right. Should she use a different color lipstick? Were her eyebrows to thick? But it was too late to change anything, so Hermione folded the first three sheets she'd written and added a list of reasons why Harry should see her as an adult. The papers were useless, but they were all she had.

Hermione's mouth was dry as she opened the door on the first floor of Harry's building, and when she looked up his stairs she felt a sudden urge to turn around and run home. Hermione frowned at herself: she was a Gryffindor. Bravery was part of who she was, Hermione straightened, and though the scared feeling in her stomach was still there and her heart still pounded she confidently marched up the stairs.

Harry had let the twins design his door, and as soon as it saw Hermione the door shouted out, "Knock, knock," and when Hermione smiled nervously instead of immediately answering, the door begged, "Come on, say 'who's there'".

Before Hermione could play along Harry pulled the door open with a broad smile that made Hermione's heart beat faster and her stomach soar, "Hello, Dobby just brought the pizzas, they're under stasis charms; come in, come in."

Harry's one bedroom was spotlessly clean, with a TV and coffee table across from a green couch with red pillows in one half of the room and a table surrounded by a half dozen chairs in the other. It was a very familiar room: Hermione had helped decorate it years ago when Harry first moved in, and they'd spent dozens of evenings in it watching movies and talking over the years.

As Hermione glanced around she relaxed. She was safe here, and though she was still nervous about talking to Harry, and she knew it wouldn't come out quite right, everything would work out in the end.

Harry waved his wand to remove the stasis charm and handed Hermione her pizza before grabbing a slice from his own, and he started to eat it without sitting down, "What did you want to talk about?" Harry asked with his head tilted slightly.

With that Hermione's nerves returned. "Uh, yes." She grabbed her purse and pulled out the papers, and when Hermione looked up she saw Harry's wide grin, "Yes, I wrote some things out - don't make fun of me" she snapped a bit irritably as Harry's smile became even broader.

Harry leaned against his counter and slowly ate his pizza with a smile as he watched Hermione straighten her papers, "ah, yes. So I am an adult. I think we can both agree that at twenty one, and after graduating from Hogwarts and three years of college I am old enough to make my own decisions."

Harry interrupted her with a laugh, "I can say based on being twenty one my first time your age is hardly proof of excellent decision making skills - not that you have anything to worry about, of course, having always shown excellent decision making skills."

Hermione frowned at Harry as the nervous flutters in her stomach swelled at his teasing. "Yes, well," Hermione swallowed hard, "You, well I've- uh, well that is to say I've-", Hermione felt herself shaking as she tried to get out her speech.

Harry's grin faded and he put down his pizza to touch Hermione reassuringly on the shoulder with a concerned look, "Are you okay?"

Hermione drew in a deep breath, and smiled at Harry's face which was just a foot from her. She looked into his wonderful green eyes for a long moment and steadied herself. _He'd _always believed in her; She could tell him what he meant to her, and explain why he should love her back. Hermione took a deep breath, "Harry, I love you. When I'm with you I just feel happy and warm and safe, and I want to always feel like that, and - and you need me, if you don't have anyone you will be lonely, and you are happy when we talk and I love to see you smile, and - and I just want you to love me like I love you."

Hermione stopped, breathing hard as she watched Harry who looked at her with an open mouth, "Oh-," He looked stunned, and after half a minute Hermione decided, enough was enough, and she stepped forward, grabbed the back of Harry's head and kissed him firmly.

Harry didn't respond and when she stepped back he stood there staring with a wide open mouth. She'd never seen Harry look so surprised and though he still hadn't said anything something about his shocked expression made Hermione's nerves disappear completely. She smiled happily at Harry, he was slow sometimes, but he'd figure it out sooner or later.

Hermione looked at the table, where her chocolate chip and pepperoni pizza that Dobby somehow made delicious sat and she realized she'd been too nervous to eat lunch. She was hungry. Hermione sat down and grabbed three slices and started to eat them. Midway through her second Hermione looked back at Harry, his shocked expression had been replaced by a smirk as he looked at her. "What?" Hermione said.

He just smirked wider, and Hermione glanced down at the slice of pizza in her hand, "I didn't eat lunch" she said defensively.

Harry shook his head and grinned.

After a moment Hermione set the pizza down and said irritably, "well have you figured it out yet and decided to kiss me?"

"The idea feels weird - besides you're so young," Harry had an intense frown.

Hermione sniffed, "Hmph, I thought we'd agreed that I was an adult -"

"No," Harry interrupted her, "We'd agreed that being twenty-one doesn't mean you have good decision making skills," He placed one hand on the table and leaned forward, "are you sure about this? I'm wrong in so many ways - I _will _kill more people someday. And -"

"Stop being silly," Hermione snapped back, "I know that if you kill someone it will be to protect innocent people. Let _me _decide if I care, and I _don't_, I will always accept you no matter what. Besides, have you thought all of the ways you are _right _for me? You've always been here for me, and over the past month you, you've _trusted _me to know things you were scared to share. Besides, you are so handsome and sexy and your eyes get so intense and dreamy…."

Hermione trailed off before she locked her eyes on Harry's, "Harry, if you think I'm too young for you, or too young to decide that you _are _the best person for me, well, I can wait until I'm old enough you feel comfortable. I love you; I always will. But honestly, you are being rather silly about the whole thing."

As she spoke Hermione saw something change in Harry's eyes. She _knew_ he'd listened to her when he looked at her as though he'd never seen her before.

As Harry slowly looked her over, up and down, Hermione's nerves tightened and her eyes widened at the intense look in his eyes.

He said moving a bit closer to her, "Don't I get a say in this."

Hermione swallowed hard, and then somehow their faces were closer than ever and she breathed out "Do you want one?"

"Maybe," Harry said as he kissed her.

A half hour later they were cuddled on the couch, ignoring the remaining pizza that had by now gone cold; Hermione curled up with her head against Harry's chest and a smile so wide it hurt. She loved Harry's smell; she loved the feel of his warm arms holding her tightly; she loved the way he looked at her. "So what were you thinking for those minutes you just stared at me?" Hermione asked happily.

Hermione could hear Harry's broad smile in his tone, and his happiness made Hermione feel warm everywhere; the world was perfect, "I was too surprised to think. Or I did think that I really should have expected this."

"Don't say it like its a bad thing," Hermione murmured into Harry's shirt.

Harry chuckled, and kissed her hair before he asked, "So what's in those papers?"

"Ah, I just - I wanted to plan out what I was going to say ahead of time." Hermione said going very red. It was silly, it was embarrassing, and it very much fit the image everyone had of her. She knew Harry was going to tell this story repeatedly.

"I know _that_," Harry grinned, "Can I see them?"

Hermione shook her head, "they're embarrassing"

"Pleeeaaase" he asked with a wide eyed pout that reminded Hermione of a puppy.

After a moment she frowned and grabbed them from her purse to hand to Harry, "Oh, all right - where did you ever learn that expression anyways?" she asked as Harry eagerly started to look through the papers.

"The twins taught me; never thought it'd be useful," he said absently before he suddenly snorted, "Oh, I can see why you didn't want to show me this. Though it _is _very cute." Harry said handing her the page with the hearts surrounding 'very very very fanciable'

"Merlin! I forgot that one." Hermione was completely red now, but despite her embarrassment couldn't stop smiling she reached for the rest of the papers in Harry's hand, "Give me those."

"Nope," he said holding them out of reach, before unfolding the next sheet with one hand, as he read it Harry's face softened and he turned towards Hermione and gave her a soft kiss and I tight hug, "That's so sweet, and I love it when you give me hugs too," Harry squeezed her and then kissed her again.

Several long, pleasant minutes later Hermione was leaning on his chest again while Harry looked at the last sheet, "I definitely do need you to tell me when I'm being an idiot" Harry grinned. Then he said in a serious tone, "You _do _know all of my secrets -" Harry gave her another tight hug, and kissed Hermione's hair again, "I had no idea how much better I'd feel once I told you everything. And I - I really was scared that night you asked me about what it had been like fighting and - thank you for making me talk about it. I never would have told you on my own, but I - I know it was wrong. What we did to You-Know-Who was wrong, I always knew that, it didn't matter what he'd done, we should have simply killed him. But, I suppose - I guess I really had always thought I was awful because I'd _enjoyed _torturing someone. And when you told me I was still a good person, it -" Harry took a deep breath, "Thank you for being there for me."

Hermione smiled as she snuggled closer to Harry, "I'll always be here for you."

* * *

Next Sunday when the group met for brunch, Hermione and Harry told everyone they were together. Nobody was very surprised, though everyone was very pleased, as Ginny put it "its so romantic that you two are finally a couple, you grew up as best friends, and have done everything together." Or as Daphne told Hermione, with her arm around Louis, who she'd brought to the group meeting, "I knew you had far too good sense to not jump on him."

Harry laughed at that, "Hermione told me you'd given her the push to talk to me - I've gotten this strong feeling that you all don't think I'm supposed to be in charge of arranging my own life."

"That's because you aren't," Susan laughed from where she sat next to Ernie, "boys really don't know what they are doing."

Harry grinned, showing the perpetual good mood he'd been in for the past week, "I certainly can't complain."

It was more surprising that Luna also had an announcement: she was dating Rolf Scamander, the grandson of the famous naturalist Newt Scamander, and a friend of Xeno's.

Now a week later Harry and Hermione were on a double date with him and Luna at their favorite Indian restaurant so they could get to know Rolf. Hermione liked him. He and Luna clicked in a very good way.

As everyone enjoyed the pleasant glow of good food and good conversation Rolf explained how he knew Xeno, "my family was always so boring - everything about it was worshiping grandpa's legacy, and nothing fun or innovative. I thought animals were boring, and so when I heard Uncle Arthur talk about how awful the _Quibbler_ was I just had to read it."

Luna smiled grabbing Rolf's hand, "He's always been Daddy's biggest fan."

"I've definitely tried," Rolf grinned, "you see everything in the _Quibbler_ was so interesting, a lot of it is clearly preliminary theories, but Xeno cared about the _fun _of discovery, and finding things no one else has even thought to look for, and when I sent him a letter, _he replied_. And he always encouraged me. Without him I'd have done something really awful, like become a potions master and I'd spend each day buried in a dungeon deep underground - or worse I'd have become the sort of horridly boring naturalist like Father and Uncle Arthur are."

Hermione took a large gulp of water to help with the burn from her curry, and shook her head, "I've always read the _Quibbler _of course, but I never realized Xeno could inspire someone that way."

"Its about how Xeno is willing to look at any idea, explore any theory, and then let the world know what he's found, even if it isn't yet fully developed, so that everyone else can look at it," Rolf replied, his eyes lighting up.

Harry laughed, "Xeno certainly _is_ willing to look at any idea."

"I don't think you get his brilliance," Rolf replied, "of course not every theory is correct, but he has this ability to put together things based on tiny facts, and then be _right_." Rolf leaned forward, "I bet you never thought anybody would ever find a crumpled horned snorkack, _but we did_."

Hands held wide in surrender Harry nodded, "I certainly never expected that - I will admit after you used the time warp theory Luna developed at the DoM to actually find one I've been looking more carefully at the _Quibbler_. After all," Harry grinned, "which of Xeno's conspiracy theories might be true?" He nudged Hermione in the arm with his elbow, "Well, _have _your parents secretly been trying to overthrow the ministry all along?"

Everyone laughed as Hermione punched Harry, and then looked at Luna, "I am really, really happy you found a snorkack.".

"Well, Rolf did the work." Luna said looking proudly at him.

Rolf smiled at her, "That's just not true, I'd have been out in that Norwegian forest no matter what, but I'd never have found them without the theory you developed." Rolf then looked at Harry, "ever since I was a teenager and Xeno replied to my first letter he's always been my hero. And despite your joke, I can tell you _are _taking him more seriously now that we've proven to the world that snorkacks exist."

Luna smiled at Harry, flicking some water from her cup at him, "Ha, I always told you Daddy was brilliant, not just bonkers."

Harry laughed and said, "seriously though, I always knew he could be right about things everyone else thought were silly." Harry turned to Rolf, "Luna of course talked about you as a family friend before, but I haven't yet heard how you two decided to go out."

Luna jumped in, "When he visited last year, we kept talking about the crumple horned snorkack, and how we were _sure _it was out there, but just didn't know how to find it. So I kept thinking about how they might be hiding, and that's when I realized that the theory I'd just developed about how time turners worked could explain the way they stayed hidden. So I sent Rolf a letter." Luna looked at Rolf and smiled softly as she patted his arm, "and he kept writing back, at first about testing my idea in Norway, but the letters were just so smart and funny, and soon we started to tell each other everything about our weeks and what we were doing, and I told him things about growing up, and he told me about his childhood and then -"

"And then you were there with those smiling grey eyes when I arrived in London to present my paper on the snorkacks," Rolf grabbed Luna's hand and squeezed it, "that's when I knew you weren't just Xeno's little girl anymore."

After another half hour of laughter and food Hermione and Luna briefly went off leaving the Harry and Rolf behind, as soon as they were out of sight, Hermione grabbed Luna and gave her a hug, "You two are _so _cute together!" she enthused smiling, "It's _so_ adorable the way he talks about your Daddy, and how you two worked together to find the snorkack - and I love how you got to know each other through letters; it's so romantic."

"We _are _cute together," Luna gushed, "Rolf is _so_ sweet, and he already loves Daddy, and we _get_ each other. And we've already found a snorkack, and I _know _we'll find lots more creatures together. Also," Luna emphasized the word in a way that let Hermione know she was talking about her ability to see likely events, "I _know _we're going to work out."

They happily looked at each other for a minute before Luna said with another huge smile, "You and Harry. I always, always _knew _you two would someday realize you were perfect for each other - and I'm _so _glad you it finally happened. I've spent all week smiling every time I think about you two."

"Me too," Hermione grinned just as widely in response, "I've smiled so much my cheeks keep hurting, but I can't stop. Everything is perfect. I talk to Harry even more, and the kissing and hugs are _incredible_, and he'll say these sweet things and I'll just go mushy and happy."

Luna squeed, "I _know, _you two look so happy together, always laughing and smiling, and Harry is so handsome, and the way he looks at you… I'd be terribly jealous if I didn't have Rolf."

Luna's happy smile made Hermione feel even better about the universe. Before they headed back to the boys Hermione gave Luna another hug, "I'm so, so happy you've found someone to be happy with. It makes everything even more perfect than it would be if it was just me and Harry."

"And just you and Harry would be very perfect," Luna grinned.

Hermione and Luna walked back to the table where Harry and Rolf sat laughing with each other, and Hermione had to smile widely: life was wonderful.

The End

* * *

_I hope you enjoyed my story, I certainly enjoyed writing it, and thankyou for reading. Please review if you want to say nice things (or even if you don't)._

_Sorry if the ending feels like it comes too fast, but I did put in two scenes after they kissed, and it is a novella length story, not a full novel. I don't think more would fit very well. _Also, I edited the scene where Ron attacked Harry in the first chapter. Mainly because I want to get the story over 40k words, but the writing in the first chapter _is _the weakest. I learned a lot over the course of writing the story.__


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